Drawing Blanks
by LinIsSleepy
Summary: Death is a fickle thing. The only ones who know what happens after it are either corpses or weirdos. This is a story about someone who is both. Reincarnation, OC-insert.
1. In Which a Woman becomes a Girl

She was the ripe age of forty-four when she died.

It wasn't very sudden, as she'd known about the cancer for two years at that point, but she wasn't exactly happy to go.

Her parents cried in their senility, even though she stuck them in a nursing home together and left them there, out of the way.

Her three children cried, too, in their busy lives, even though they hardly spoke to her once she paid for their schooling in college. Her tiniest grandson was the only one who didn't shed a tear, but he was just confused because he was only one. He didn't know what death _was_.

Her parents had conceived her at a very, very _old_ age, only her, and a stillborn older sister two years before. She had conceived her own at the very _young_ age of sixteen. Her oldest, her only daughter, was 26 when the news of her ailment was shared. She had three tikes herself. _She_ had met her timing for children somewhere in the middle - she had a good head on her shoulders.

That daughter's oldest, Samantha, was her favorite person in the world. Grandmothers weren't allowed to play favorites, but then again, _she_ broke the rules on a regular basis.

Sam was the opposite of herself. She had always been lacking in the grade department, but she knew and saw how the world worked. She had her street smarts. Her granddaughter was sheltered, only smart in the classroom. She tried to teach Sam as much as she could about the real some things cannot be taught.

Sam wasn't all the pretty, but she wasn't bad looking either. She would probably grow into her looks. She was the only one she talked to more than two days a week, when she came over after high school hours to watch television and cartoons with her. Those times had been a blast.

Cancer of the lungs from smoking was not an easy way to go. Her life sparked, sputtered, and smothered out like the cigarettes she had used. Her ex-husband smoked too, and he was healthier than a horse. Fat, but healthy. Karma meant nothing to her.

She wondered why she ever let him knock her up. Or why she had stuck with him for as long as she did, even after the first few strikes.

She died in a white hospital bed with all of her descendants surrounding her. She was hyped up on morphine, so she didn't feel anything when she took her last breath.

And then she was suddenly taking another. The darkness in her consciousness exploded into a blinding white. She breathed once more, her voice cracking like thunder, and then she was gasping for air, and it was all so confusing.

Her sight was ruined, but she could see no sign of her family by her bedside. She was still in the hospital, if the stench of chemicals and morbid whiteness told her anything, but something was different about the room. Why was the window facing east? Hadn't it been on the other side? Had she switched rooms?

A sudden sting on her backside choked her up. In the distance, a baby started crying.

Her balance was thrown, making her panic and fling her arms and legs and-

Her legs were like lead and her arms were short and stubby. She was clueless, once again, of the state of being she was in.

Someone really needed to shut that baby up. It was getting on her nerves.

She felt a warm softness envelope her like a blanket. She blinked and realized her eyes had fallen shut. They were too heavy to hold open long enough to decipher what she saw.

Eventually she realized, in her tiny, heavy form, she was in the arms of a woman. There was a murmuring in her ear that she didn't understand.

Oh.

A burning in her throat told her she was using her vocal cords.

 _She_ was crying. _She_ was crying like a baby.

She _was_ a baby.

Someone, shut her up. She was annoying _herself_.

 **xXx**

* * *

She never believed in reincarnation. Rather, she didn't believe in much anything. But a second chance at life? That seemed like a pretty good deal to her. Some nights, as a single mother living in a cruddy apartment with two cruddy jobs, she often wished to start over, to begin again with a blank slate. She remembered the helplessness she had felt during those hard times and she decided she would gladly accept this new opportunity. There wasn't anything left but improvement.

The sun came for the first time since her rebirth, a mere hour after she was introduced to her new mother. She could see it through her east-facing window.

She could also see thousands of people crowding the streets, and she knew she was in a city. A big one, at that. She noticed as well that everyone had dark features. She was in an Asian country.

Interesting.

More sounds were babbled by the woman. She heard " _watashi_ ," and " _namae_ ," but she could not string the entire sentence together. At least she knew it was Japanese. Sam would be able to translate; she took two years of Japanese in middle school.

It looked like she'd have to start from scratch in the language department. All she knew of Japanese was hello and a few words scattered about from all the anime Sam watched when she babysat her.

She would miss Sam, if she missed anyone.

She was in her new home after what felt like a blink. It was small and dark and not very welcoming. It was also in rough shape, and needed a serious cleaning. It would probably pass exactly zero health inspections. She couldn't believe they expected to raise a child there.

It was still better off than her old house.

Her staff of adults included the young woman from whom she came from and an ancient man who must have been her grandfather. There was no younger man that could have been her father. It was just the three of them, and occasionally a shady landlord who looked at her mother with hungry eyes.

Her mother was a sweet woman and never rejected his advances with words, but her body language did not send any mixed messages. She rejected him. He simply refused to cease his harassment.

Whenever her grandfather was gone, his pushes did not relent when she slapped his hands away.

It happened countless times, right in front of her.

She was a baby, the Landlord figured, she wouldn't understand what was happening. Besides, it was better this way; her mother didn't cry as much so as not to scare her.

But she _could_ understand and it made her angry _beyond_ belief. She wanted to slug him. Worse, _kill_ him. She fantasized about choking the life out of him. In her old body, that is. There wasn't much she could do _now_.

Time passed quickly, most likely because she spent the majority of her days in dreamland. Her attention span was too broken for her to become restless or bored with her adult memories. That was probably for the best.

She was crawling and walking before too long, probably too early for her muscles and motor skills to catch up. She recklessly forced her legs to push and her knees to work. In the end, she was alright, and a mighty _fine_ walker if she did say so herself.

Talking was _hell_ at first; working through sore jaws and blubbery lips wasn't easy, especially with a new and completely unfamiliar language.

And then one day, everything just somehow clicked in her head. New words were easier to pick up, old ones were permanently etched into her mind, and pretty soon she was the most fluent one and a half year old she knew of, in _any_ language.

She potty trained herself at the same time. Her mother was ecstatic at her rapid development, especially in that department. Of course, she had done it mostly for herself. It would be humiliating to have to be retaught how to use a toilet. She was forty-six, _dammit_ , she could go to the _bathroom_. The Japanese toilets, which went under ground level, were strange, but easy to figure out.

She didn't need to start over, she just needed adjusting.

Her grandfather never held her or took care of her. _He_ didn't like _her_ , and _she_ didn't like _him_. She had a sinking feeling he knew what the Landlord did to his daughter when he left, and he did nothing about it. He looked at her like she deserved it, like it was punishment.

In her old life, she would have called him a dick. But young Japanese girls didn't know such foul language.

 **xXx**

* * *

Any play dates that she was forced to go to were awkward for both her _and_ her mother. She was too advanced to be stimulated mentally by other toddlers, and the woman had nothing she could relate to with other moms. She was too young, her life was too unstable. All that was given in terms of consideration were upturned noses at their way of life.

Park visits were better. The homeless man who slept on the slide was very entertaining. She would approach him when her mother wasn't looking, and he would in turn make silly faces and act out comedic plays in an attempt to make her laugh. She actually _did,_ a few times, and he was very high on her very short list of 'Acceptable Human Beings'.

It was an unfortunate day that her mother caught their exchanges, although an inevitable one.

One moment she was giggling at a poorly translated Romeo and Juliet, and the next, her mother plucked her off the ground. The woman froze as she caught the man's startled gaze, but eventually broke her trance and quickly scurried off.

She waved from her mother's arms. He waved back.

They didn't go to the park much after that.

 **xXx**

* * *

Reiko Matsumoto knew that she had a very _atypical_ daughter.

She never played with other children - not that Reiko could ever get any of the other _mothers_ to _agree_ to a play date - and only talked to a grand total of two people (one being her, and the other being the homeless man who slept on the slide in the park, a fact that, quite frankly, made her very nervous). But when she held conversations with her daughter, Reiko didn't see a mere three years in her eyes. She _knew_ things, knew the _world_ like only an adult could. She was... _Jaded_. Her own daughter treated her like _she_ was the child. Reiko didn't know how she felt about it, or how to handle it.

Her father did the same thing; treated her like a child, that is. He didn't trust her with her own decisions, with her own life. With her own mistakes.

He forced her to leave her childhood home. He forced her to stay in hiding, to accept his money and his bi-daily presence.

He couldn't just let people know his daughter had a child _outside_ of marriage, could he? Or, even worse, that the father had _ran_ the second he had heard Reiko was of child. Her father couldn't let such rumors tarnish his _reputation_ as a _dojo_ _master_. It'd be the end of his pride.

He watched her like a hawk each time he was there.

On the days her father wasn't there, _He_ was.

He was flabby and had facial hair over his acne. But worst of all, he smelled. And it never came off, even when she bathed.

And she was drowning in his stench, and she couldn't _breathe_ , and all she needed was relief…

xXx

* * *

She was four years old, and her old life was still at the forefront of her mind. She mostly thought about Sam, how she must have graduated high school by then, how she must have found a boyfriend. She clung onto the times they spent together, on watching her grow up, on the shows they used to watch together. It was hard to let go. She found comfort in reading. Or rather, books distracted her from her inner thoughts. The challenge of deciphering this new language was a welcome one. She couldn't tell whether her rather advanced hobbies made Reiko, her mother, proud or scared. Was she just a genius, or was she a freak of nature?

It was slightly funny that Reiko would never find out that her daughter really was a freak.

Because she wasn't a genius, that was for sure.

 **xXx**

* * *

She woke up one day, and Reiko didn't get out of bed.

There was red soaking her shirt front and sheets. Silver gleamed by her wrists.

Reiko Matsumoto's final thoughts were on a piece of notebook paper. She placed it on her pillow, next to her head.

 _'He smells so badly. I'm sorry, Kaho.'_

Reiko slept. Kaho moved in with her grandfather. He didn't cry.

She didn't either.

 **xXx**

* * *

By the time she was five, Kaho was so ready for school that it almost hurt. Her grandfather walked her to the opening ceremony, which was a very uncomfortable stretch of silence. She was just glad she wouldn't have to spend anymore days trapped in that bloody home, all alone. She had run out of books to read, and grandfather said she couldn't go into the dojo until she was eight.

She found the opening ceremony boring, and was forced to swing her feet back and forth in order to stay awake. Her legs didn't even reach halfway to the ground.

"Sit still," her grandfather ordered.

She ceased swinging her feet and sat perfectly still for at least thirty seconds. She didn't notice when it started up again until a stinging on her cheek told her she had been struck.

"Listen to me when I tell you to do something, girl," Grandfather scolded.

Kaho attended her first three days of school with a bruise under her eye.

 **xXx**

* * *

Judo was an interesting art, to say the least. You didn't have to be bigger or stronger than your opponent to throw them, but you did need to be big and strong. Kaho was neither.

She was rather dexterous, especially for her age of eight, but she was still no match for the other students, the boys. She hit the mat countless times, her own attempt at a throw countered and used against her.

That was unacceptable. She was the granddaughter of Master Matsumoto. She had to win to uphold her family's honor, even if it was practice or a warm-up.

When regular Judo classes ended, Grandfather gave her private lessons.

This time when the teachers asked where the bruises were from, she could say, 'from Judo practice,' without _completely_ lying.

 **xXx**

* * *

It'd been nearly a decade since she'd seen Sam. She had probably gotten married by now.

Thoughts of her old life were rarer and rarer these days. Sometimes she found herself having normal ten year old thoughts, almost forgetting her secret. Almost forgetting her age.

It scared her. Forgetting _Sam_ scared her.

She began to write things down. Every little detail she could think of or recall about Sam; their tedious conversations, and what type of coffee they shared.

And the television shows they had watched.

Sam was a huge fan of _Death Note._ She had gotten her young grandmother into it as well, and together they fangirl-ed over every little detail.

She, personally, could get behind Light, but Sam had eyes only for L.

Before realizing it, Kaho had written down almost the entirety of the show. It surprised her how much she remembered some details and forgot others. Strange, how the mind worked. Her new, Japanese studying techniques had increased her memories capacity, she believed, but not all things could be recovered after they are lost.

That's right, she was Japanese now. She could watch Death Note in its original language and understand it without subtitles.

 _Anything_ , to never forget Sam.

 **xXx**

* * *

Grandfather didn't believe in television or computers, so she went to the library.

"I had an assignment that required the Internet," she told the old man when he interrogated her of her whereabouts the last twenty minutes. "Tanaka-Sensei suggested everyone research what happened on the day Hiroshima was bombed."

"And what did you learn?" A test. He didn't trust her.

"The Allied Forces had just defeated Germany in Europe, and had then turned their focus of the war to the Pacific. The American President, Harry S. Truman, had just authorized the use of the Atomic bomb-"

"Very well. Go to your room and change into your gear," he ordered sternly. "You're late for your lessons."

It would have been embarrassing if a Matsumoto had arrived the next day as the only one who hadn't done their research.

She had only been at the Library for ten minutes, anyway. The anime and manga known as Death Note had not appeared in any search engine. It simply did not exist.

 **xXx**

* * *

Kaho liked school. She may have forgotten some of the material she had known as an adult, but it came back to her after a refreshing lesson. To her teachers, she was a bright kid who picked new things up quickly. To her classmates, she was hardworking. Kaho had plenty of friends, and a pleasantly small amount of girl drama, but just enough to keep her entertained.

School was a haven.

After a certain amount of time, however, say eight of their entire thirteen years of life, her closer friends wanted to know about her home life.

Kaho had a response for most, if not all, of the prying questions. Learning to lie was second nature to her.

"I live with my grandfather. He's the master of a Judo Dojo. My parents were killed in a train crash. It was tragic. When? June 21st. In Shinjuku. They were on a small get-together with friends. I was four. I don't remember them much. This bruise? Judo, of course. I'm working on obtaining my green belt, but the test is so difficult. I'll work hard and try my best to succeed."

She chose an all-girls high school. It was prestigious, which would definitely affect her University options, but it also had on-campus dorms. She couldn't pass that opportunity up.

"Do they have a Judo club, Senpai?" her classmate, Jun Masashi asked her as they swept the middle school's Judo dojo. She was the current captain of the Judo club, so even though they were they same age, she was still 'Senpai'. She stayed after practice most nights to clean and prep for the next day. Her friends would often help her and make things move along more quickly.

"Yes, they have a large one," Kaho answered him.

"Will you try for captain there?" Jun asked eagerly.

"No, not my first year."

"I think you're good enough to be one already!" he insisted. "There's no point in waiting if you could do it now."

"You're too kind."

After cleaning, she went home. Grandfather had known about her decision for a long while by then, but he kept thinking up new questions to ask each time she walked through the door.

She couldn't tell if he was suspicious of her intentions, or worried about her. He was stern as always, but he voiced a few out-of-character questions.

"What is the curfew?"

"Nine," she answered shortly. Maybe he _was_ worried.

" _You're_ curfew is seven. I'll inform the faculty of these arrangements, and they will inform me of any disobedience." _Nevermind_.

"Yes, Grandfather."

 **xXx**

* * *

Kaho felt stupid. She was always aware that the date she had been reborn on had been in the _past_ of her old life; she had died on December 11, _2013_ , but her new birthday was December 11, _1977_. And, in 1992, at the age of fifteen, it finally occurred to her that Death Note just hadn't been _written_ yet. She had always figured she was just in a whole different world, as her old mother had no records to be found, but the technology she had access to, wasn't extremely reliable. At least, not to someone from twenty years in the future.

She had that 'Back in Time' theory for a while.

And then she heard some news at school.

After Judo practice, Kaho showered with the other girls. It was nice to feel clean, and she got a chance to know her classmates. It was no strange thing to start up a conversation in the bathroom.

"Did you see the story on the news last night, Kaho-chan?" Yuka Arakawa asked. She was referring to when they were allowed to watch T.V. together on the dorm's first floor, every Thursday. The other days allowed for no electronics, unless they were needed for homework. It was a treat bestowed upon the girls by the dorm supervisors.

"I can't watch the news," Kaho answered simply.

"Why not?"

"It starts at eight."

"Well, anyway, they caught the Sandman!" Yuka squealed excitedly.

"I don't know who the Sandman is. I can't watch the news," Kaho reiterated.

"Oh, well, it's a nickname. There were a string of murders in the Kitaguchi Hotels in Ikebukuro. A man was breaking into locked rooms and strangling couples in their sleep. It was brutal, at least ten people were killed," Yuka explained. Kaho figured she'd make a good reporter; she was smart, articulate, and pretty. And she beat around the bush quite a bit.

"Anyway, as it turned out, the area's head manager would schedule himself for the night shift at different hotels each night, then sabotage the security cameras so they wouldn't work. Then he'd pick out a couple on the room logs and choke them to death with janitor gloves. Everyone thought the victims were random."

"So he was arrested?"

Yuka grinned. "Not quite. See, the manager was only following orders. It turns out that the president of the entire hotel company _made_ him do it!"

"That's terrible," Kaho commented.

"It is. And they were only really targeting one couple; apparently the president had a secret mistress who broke up with him for someone else. He gave her and her new boyfriend a free week's stay at one of his nicest hotels as a way to make amends with her, but that was just bait to get them in one of his businesses. The other victims were just cover-ups."

Kaho sighed, an appropriate amount of relief on her face.

"I'm glad the police caught them."

"They didn't, actually," Yuka continued with a flourish. "Some young, up-and-coming detective solved the whole thing by himself. In one day!"

Kaho regarded Yuka with raised eyebrows.

"That's very impressive. Let's hope he keeps up the good work. Maybe he'll become an officer in Ikebukuro one day. I'm sure he is needed."

"I doubt it. He works mostly in England and Europe. He has his own brand practically made up for himself already."

"Oh, I assumed he was Japanese," Kaho said.

"Well, I can't say he isn't. No one has any idea who he is or what he looks like. He might even be more than one person. Or he might just be the police, and they use his name to break laws and such in order to put the bad guys behind bars. Either way, I think he's pretty sold on the Independent Detective thing."

Kaho nodded at each suggestion. "They all sound plausible. What does he call himself?"

Yuka thought for a moment. "It was... L. Just L, I think."

 **xXx**

* * *

She wasn't absolutely _sure_ she was in the same world that a m _anga_ took place in, until... Well.

For a while, she convinced herself that this 'L' could have been the inspiration for the character. Maybe he had been based off a real person. Her 'Back in Time' theory was still in for the running.

L's name grew with each successful case. She snuck out of her room on Thursdays to watch the news.

And then happened the incident that completely blew her first theory out of the water.

She had just started her third year of high school. She would be graduating at the end of the year, as well as the rest of her class. In preparation, several figureheads in a variety of career fields were invited to her school to give speeches.

Kaho sat properly in the crowd as a man was warmly welcomed to the podium.

"Hello, thank you for having me. My name is Soichiro Yagami. I've been recently appointed Chief of Police at my department, and I now have the honor to educate you young ladies on what it is like to be an Officer of the Law. "

 **xXx**

* * *

"Are you sure you want to enter the Police Academy, Kaho? It won't be easy, you know," Misao Ishikawa conversed. Kaho held the submission slip in her hand, enveloped and stamped correctly. She had filled it out months ago. Now, the Academy would finally be accepting applications. She opened the mailbox.

"I mean, I'd miss you too much! You should come to nursing school with me," Misao continued, half-joking, half hoping it would work.

Kaho smiled. "I'm sure this is where I want to go. Besides, I'm not looking for easy."

Misao sighed, skipping beside the girl she considered her friend as she walked away from the mailbox, her letter safely inside, mixed with other girls' hopes and dreams for the future.

"Alright, alright. Knowing you, it won't be hard _enough_ ," Misao poked at Kaho's side, giggling. Kaho grinned back, genuinely in sync with the emotions she was trying to portray, for once; she was giddy, and excited.

"Oh, I'm sure it will be interesting."

 **xXx**

* * *

 **AN: Hello, and thank you for reading until the end of Chapter 1! Please let me know what you think, especially about Kaho. How did she come off as? What kind of person do you think she is?**

 **Kaho lives in the Kanto region of Japan, in Tokyo, which is coincidentally where the Yagami Family lives. Of course, she doesn't go to the same school that Light will when he eventually gets to high school. Unless he decides to enroll at an All-Girl's school, in which case, I feel we would have a completely different fanfic on our hands. She is older than Light, if that wasn't clear.**

 **This is labeled as an Oc-Insert. I do not see Kaho as myself. Frankly, I'd die in this world. As for romance, I** _ **do**_ **see it happening, though as to with who, that is up for debate. :D**

 **The time skips are many in number and close in distance, I know, but it won't be that way forever.**

 **Also, if there are any wrong facts from the manga or anime, or if I completely contradict myself, please let me know! Again, thank you for reading!**

 **~Mao**


	2. In Which a Girl Becomes a Woman

Grandfather was happy with her decision. She could tell. He looked fulfilled, appeased, like his hard work had finally paid off after many, long years. _Finally_ , someone other than himself would have a respectable life in the Matsumoto family.

She first attended a University for two years for her generals and a few classes on laws. After that, she transferred to the Police Academy.

Boot camp was difficult, but Kaho was probably better off than most of the other trainees. Her muscles were strong and her balance was solid from years of conditioning and throwing others around. Running and other cardio activities forced her to push herself, but completing each demand gave her a gratifying sense of accomplishment.

She had very little qualms about cutting her hair short, a style she had actually donned in her old life. It was actually a refreshing change from her wait-long hair that she had in high school. Some of the other woman applicants were, understandably, hesitant about the cuts. Of course, their future careers won out over their fashion sense, and the promise that they could grow it out once they made it through the academy softened the blow. Most women didn't do much field work, so having long hair wasn't typically a dangerous choice.

Kaho wasn't exactly trying for field work herself, although she felt she may have been suited for it. She was aiming for the investigation taskforce.

Kaho _thrived_ in the Academy. She received top marks in physical training, in obedience, and on field simulations. During the self-defence training, no one could touch her. The other trainees didn't have her advantages. After all, she had a good forty years on all of them. Although, the ten years of Judo in this life helped, too. She also had specific goals and priorities.

She was determined to excel.

She was determined to work under a Mr. Soichiro Yagami.

It was for purely selfish reasons, and she wasn't sure if her presence could actually change any outcomes, but with her knowledge of what to come involving the Kira case must have been priceless. She had a vague plan of what she wanted to do and what she wanted to change, but she had no way of knowing what methods would actually work. Maybe nothing would work, and she was scheming against fate. And even then, she had no way to guarantee that the events depicted in Death Note would play out at all. It'd be just her luck that she ended up in a world where fictional characters exist, but their lives were completely different than their stories.

Kaho scolded herself. Yes, she had known these people as characters, but now they were real. She had seen Soichiro Yagami in person, had realized he had an actual family, had thought about how he lived out every day, just like her, even when he wasn't in a scene of a show. He was a _real_ person.

And so was Light.

And so was L.

And all she could think about was Sam and how awesome she would think this would be, a chance to meet Soichiro Yagami, a father, a police officer, and an anime character, unbeknownst to him. He was someone Sam had admired deeply. She had cried for hours after his fictional death.

And she had cried for _weeks_ after L's.

And anything that made Sam cry was _unacceptable_.

 **xXx**

* * *

Kaho opened the door to her grandfather's house, her suitcase in her her grasp.

"Tadaima," she called quietly. Grandfather was sitting cross-legged at his table, a steaming cup of tea in his hands.

"Did you pass the exam?" were his first and only words. There was no 'Okaerinasai' when such important news was yet to be heard. Actually, there usually wasn't _anyway_. She didn't know why she thought two years of no contact would change anything.

"Yes," she answered. After a thoughtful pause, she added, "I graduated first in my class at the Academy." After the words came out, she realized there had been no point in saying them. Grandfather was silent, only sipping tea, so Kaho hoisted her suitcase to her side, slipping through the front room to enter her bedroom.

"Congratulations," he nodded at her in approval. It gave Kaho enough reason to pause.

"Thank you," she replied, disappearing into her room.

xXx

* * *

Her job interview was admittedly much less exciting than her two years at the academy. The station's Head honcho - the Director - was a dull and traditional man. He probably noticed that Kaho was _young_ and fresh out of training before he saw her grades. He asked her easily answerable questions, and never got personal until they were nearly finished.

"Why do you want to become an Officer of the Law, Matsumoto-san," he inquired. Kaho smiled politely, pausing for a moment like she needed to think. In actuality, she had figured he would ask something like that. She had planned out her response in her head, and now she had to put all that preparation to use.

"When I was still in highschool," she started, "my school received a visitor from this station to enlightened us students on the duties and responsibilities of a police officer. I saw how proud and respectable this man was, and hoped that I could one day be as dedicated and righteous as he was. I've wanted to become an officer ever since that day, and I never questioned that feeling." It was a text-book answer, but it was for a text-book man. The Director didn't show any emotion at her words, and then he excused her presence. He wasn't easy to read, but she could tell she was being considered and taken seriously. He was a man that respected others, and made others respect _him._

One month later, she was moving into her new desk. She was provided with a desktop, registered into the computer system as an official officer, and sent into the real world.

Mr. Yagami, as Chief of Police, welcomed her on her first day. It was very exhilarating for her, although probably not so for him, but she was giddy with excitement for quite awhile afterwards.

"Welcome to the force, Matsumoto-san," Mr. Yagami said, fatherly and distantly at the same time. Kaho bowed, genuinely worried about what this man thought of her. She was not so used to the feeling.

"Thank you, sir. I'll do my best and work hard," she promised.

"See that you will. Mogi," he turned to a man sitting at his desk nearby. Kaho froze at the familiar name. This new man was tall and thick, with warm eyes and a friendly face. "Would you mind showing Matsumoto-san around the station? I have an important meeting in five minutes."

"No problem, Chief," Mogi smiled.

"I'll leave you to it, then," Mr. Yagami bowed in farewell. Kaho bowed back before he turned on his heel to power walk away. She then turned to the now standing Mogi and bowed again in greeting.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said.

"Likewise. How about I show you around and then introduce you to the other guys?" he asked, setting a light mood. Kaho let out a small smile.

"That sounds wonderful."

The station was mostly white and busy, and it smelled like ink and fresh paper, but it had a contradictory atmosphere. She couldn't tell whether it was business-like and serious, or homey and comfortable. It would take some getting used to, that was for sure.

Mogi was kind and reserved, but comfortable in his own skin. He didn't treat her like some passing trend, but like a co-worker and future comrade, someone who was there to stay. She appreciated that.

He introduced her to the other officers. There were quite a few new names to recollect, but they all seemed nice enough. The famous and familiar Aizawa was there as well. He was sarcastic and not quite as welcoming, but he wasn't fake.

"Just out of the academy, I heard," he teased her, shuffling a stack of papers. She couldn't tell if he was simply speaking his mind or trying to scare her. "Be careful, or you might get eaten alive in here. Don't piss anyone off," he warned with a smirk.

"Watch the language, Aizawa," Ukita, who she had been introduced to a mere two minutes before, interjected. Then he turned to her. "Don't listen to him, he just thinks he's funny."

Meeting everyone was fun, but it also took quite a lot out of her. She wasn't all that sociable in _either_ of her lives.

She had meet everyone in the offices, but there was still a nagging in her mind.

"Was there anyone not here at the moment that I still need to meet?" she asked Mogi just before he was about to leave her to her own devices. He thought for a brief moment.

"Hmm, well, Watanabe and Kawahara are doing an investigation right now. They should be back later today," Mogi answered.

"I see. Thank you for all of your help, Mogi-san," Kaho bowed again. Mogi grinned.

"Just call me Mogi. The only ones around here who really care about honorifics are the Director and the Chief."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, again."

She already felt like a full-fledged detectives sometimes, when she discovered new things, such as her discovery that, if he even existed at all, Touta Matsuda was younger than she was. He hadn't even been hired yet.

That meant she would have to _wait_ for Ryuk to act. And that was okay. Now she had time to establish herself, to prove herself. She needed _some_ experience under her belt before the case of the century.

 **xXx**

* * *

Her first months were beginning to drag on. As the youngest and newest, Kaho was typically given the tasks that, to be put bluntly, no one wanted. Sometimes, she was even required to fetch coffee for everyone.

"It won't be forever. I used to be the Coffee-runner when I first started, too," Mogi comforted her. He laughed at her forced smile.

"I don't mind," she fibbed, rather obviously. Mogi chuckled.

Eventually, things began rolling along in a more desirable direction. Kaho moved out of her Grandfather's house and into a small, single bedroom apartment. She didn't speak to him, and she frankly didn't care if she ever did again. She made connections with her coworkers, made friends, gained respect. She was even picked to work on a case - Aizawa's doing, she'd discovered - although her contribution was smaller than she would have hoped. A few times, she even made some arrests.

She was very excited when she received her own case to investigate. It was a small one that only really needed one person to work on, but it was better than fetching coffee. It was about an armed robbery at a convenience store. There was a security tape and fingerprints everywhere, so catching the perpetrator was so easy that it almost wasn't even funny.

After she made the arrest, she returned to the station. It was late, and all she wanted to do was clean up her desk so she could go home. She found that the lights were out, which was strange, because there were always at least a few who stayed until dawn, when the morning shift came in. was usually one of those. Something was going on, and she had a gut feeling that the workroom wasn't empty.

Kaho wasn't sure how she was supposed to handle such a situation, so she slipped around the door and circled around the room in the hallway. She snuck up to the second entrance; it was never a good idea to leave only one way out of a room where people that put vengeful prisoners behind bars worked. That left little chance for escape if someone were to burst into the room with a gun.

Kaho's eyes took a second to adjust in the darkness, but once they did, she saw a man crouching at a desk. Then she saw another, and another, and she realized that they were all wearing suits, and one of them had an afro. Her coworkers were crouched behind desks, waiting with baited breath.

She tiptoed up to Aizawa and crouched behind him.

"What's going on?" she whispered, eyeing the room's entrance like the others. Aizawa jumped, saw her next to him, and swore.

"Goddammit," he cursed, rising to his feet.

"Aizawa? Sit down!" someone called from across the room.

"There's no point! The whole thing is ruined now!" he yelled.

"What?"

"What's happened?"

The lights flick on. Kaho was found standing beside Aizawa, confused to the point of speechlessness. All of her fellow officers were in the room, rising to their feet from behind their hiding places. The only one not there was the Director, which was probably a good thing. Some looked amused, some flustered, and others disappointed.

"What is going on?" Kaho managed in her stupor.

"Geez, why can't you be _normal_ and go through the front way like everybody else?" Aizawa griped. He didn't seem genuinely mad, but his fiery words were just how he was.

"I noticed the lights were off, and thought something was wrong," Kaho defended herself.

"Don't listen to Aizawa," Mr. Yagami waved him off. "The surprise wasn't that important."

Kaho blinked. For the first time, she noticed the banner hanging at the front of the room. It read 'Congratulations'. Oh.

"We just wanted to congratulate you on your first case's success," Mr. Yagami explained, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. "And we needed to properly welcome you to the station. We've all been so busy these six months that I don't think it was ever properly done."

If he thought they were busy then, she wondered what he would think in a couple of years.

"Thank you," Kaho smiled. "You've all been so kind."

"No need to be so polite, Matsumoto," Ukita teased. "You're one of us, and, if you don't count the Chief, we haven't been very nice at all!" Some of them chuckled at the joke. Kaho's meaning of nice and Ukita's meaning of nice were pretty distant from each other.

"Speaking of which," Mogi appeared behind her, grinning mischievously. "I could go for some coffee right about now. I have night shift."

"Ha, ha," Kaho playfully rolled her eyes, something she had to force herself to do. Trying to be 'less polite' was a work in progress. Ukita smiled at the effort. Mr. Yagami lead her to a table where punch had been set out. It wasn't much of a party, but it was the thought that counted.

"...I was being serious," Mogi muttered.

 _xXx_

* * *

Touta Matsuda was a nervous wreck. He fidgeted often, and followed orders like a puppy. Kaho wondered why he was so nervous, as he had scored first in his class at the academy. A little confidence would have done him some good, plus, he actually had the goods to back it up. And Kaho didn't think that about people too often.

"What do you think of the new guy?" Aizawa asked during their lunch break. She often ate with him, Mogi, and Hideki Ide, a brash and honest man.

"He doesn't seem serious enough to me," Ide scowled. "I don't think he deserves to be here."

"He's just young," Mogi mediated. "I think he's got some spunk."

"I think he's a fool," Aizawa took a large bite of his rice.

"I'm just glad I'm not the rookie anymore," Kaho smiled dreamingly, taking a sip of tea. " _Matsuda_ can get you your damn coffee _now_."

"I'm actually trying to ween myself off of it," Mogi admitted. "I've been getting the jitters lately."

Kaho gasped in shock. "What cruel irony is this? Why couldn't you get the jitters a year ago?"

"I think he started to drink coffee a lot more often after you started working here," Aizawa informed her with a smirk.

After a lunch of teasing and pleasantries, Kaho returned to her desk. Mr. Yagami was there, waiting for her.

"Ah, there you are. Come to the conference room. You've been picked for a case." Kaho nodded. Whenever the conference room was used, that meant the case was big; big enough for a team, that is. She followed her superior to the larger room. In it, there was a long, intimidating table. Mr. Yagami took a seat at the end, and opened his laptop. Aizawa, Ukita, and Ide, as well as two others, Kobayashi and Hashimoto, were seated around the table. Kaho took a seat as well, between Ide and Hashimoto. She turned to the Chief expectantly.

"Right, now that everyone is here, I'll get straight to it." Mr. Yagami pulled up a window on his computer, which Kaho assumed had the case details. "This morning, we received an emergency call. A woman was found dead in her home from a gunshot to the head. Her husband is currently missing, and there are signs of a struggle throughout the entire house. There are also signs of a forced entry."

"Was it a burglar?" Ukita wondered.

"That wouldn't explain why the husband is missing," Hashimoto debunked him. "Unless he was somehow involved with whoever did the breaking and entering."

"That's unlikely," Mr. Yagami interjected. "An unusual amount of blood found in the house belongs to the husband. It wasn't enough to confirm a death, however, and the forensic team believes he is injured, but alive."

"How would a burglar manage to lug around a full-grown, bleeding, adult male through the front yard by himself? There's got to be more than one bad guy," Aizawa speculated. Ide stretched his long legs underneath the table.

"There's gotta be. Assuming the husband was unconscious - because if not, he'd be screaming up a ruckus in an active neighborhood, and someone would have heard him - carrying someone's full body weight isn't easy."

"He could've held a gun to his head and threatened to shoot him if he made a peep," Kaho suggested. "Then he could've just _walked_ him to a getaway vehicle."

Kobayashi placed a hand under his chin in thought. "I think a gun would have been too noticeable, and too hard to disguise. There have been no reports about a gun sighting in the area."

"Whatever may have happened," Mr. Yagami said, closing his laptop, "it's too early to make any assumptions. Let's get down to the crime scene."

 **xXx**

* * *

Kaho followed her colleagues underneath the yellow police tape. The crime scene was on the larger side of the scale for houses in Japan, and on a safe street. Kaho imagined that, although it was busy, not much night activities took place there, which made the fact that no one had really heard the gun that killed the wife go off more plausible. It was Japan's equivalent to a suburban.

Men and women in labcoats and gloves were still crawling in and out of the house like ants. When they noticed Mr. Yagami, half of them ceased their busywork to salute him. One man asked them to follow him further inside. Kaho felt a little second-hand power from just standing near the man. It was pretty badass, as she would have said twenty-three years ago.

The wife had been killed executioner style; forced to sit on her knees and shot from behind in the back of her head. Her hands had been bound behind her back. Kaho tried not to imagine a pretty young woman being startled awake in the black of night, all of a person's worst nightmares coming true. This woman - a _girl_ , compared to her - had probably been confused and terrified, like a rabbit.

A forensic investigator approached Mr. Yagami with a plastic bag in his grip.

"This is the only bullet shell in the house. We've looked high and low all morning, and I see no evidence that the husband was shot as well. If he was, the bullet must still be inside him," he informed them. Kaho saw the golden cylinder suspended in its plastic cell.

"That's for a .45 AMT Hardballer," she identified. Not just anyone could get their hands on a gun in Japan, but if a gun were common, that would be it. "I get the notion that this guy was a surface dweller in the weapons-trading business."

"Probably so," Mr. Yagami agreed. The team began examining the house, searching for evidence. Everyone was in 'Quiet-Mode'. The tone was serious and urgent, but the pace of discovery was too slow.

And then the crazy stuff began.

Ide received a phone call. He answered it, allowed some information to soak into his brain, and then called to Mr. Yagami. "Chief," he said urgently. "The husband…"

"What's up?" Aizawa urged.

"The husband is alright. He's been treated at the hospital, and it sounds like his wounds weren't too serious."

"Good," Mr. Yagami sighed, obviously relieved. "Ide, Kobayashi, head to the hospital immediately for interrogations." He turned to the scientist. "I'll take this as evidence."

Like a boulder rolling down a hill, the case gained some momentum. Mr. Yagami ordered Hashimoto and Ukita back to the station; not only would they need its database to immediately begin searching for a suspect the moment Ide and Kobayashi could give them a call with some clues, but the press would be an issue in and of itself. Especially in such an affluent neighborhood.

Finally, Mr. Yagami addressed the remainder of his team. "Matsumoto, Aizawa, and I will continue investigating here. Please hurry, everyone."

"Yes, sir," was the echoed response.

Kaho watched the others leave. This case was getting her blood boiling - in a good way.

"I just don't understand," Aizawa rubbed his head in deep thought. "We've already determined that there had to be at least two kidnappers. How would he get away from them with an injury like that?" he gestured wildly to a large puddle of red at his feet. It was too far away from the wife to have spilled from her body.

"Maybe they got what they wanted and let him go," Kaho theorized.

"hmph, I'm pretty sure I know what it is they wanted, at least, but I don't know if they got it. It's all still _here_ ," Aizawa glared at a large china cabinet with delicate platery encased inside. Next to it was a giant TV and the newest model of Kotatsu. "Money, what else? Maybe the husband was taken for a stroll to the bank."

"Keep your eyes open for anything suspicious," Mr. Yagami half-scolded.

"Yes sir," she and Aizawa responded, almost simultaneously.

It took the trio a solid two hours to cover the front room and the bedroom. They were so thorough that Kaho's back began to hurt from crawling on the floor for so long. She also had to be careful about tampering with the scene too much, but finding any incriminating evidence while smudging some blood took priority over leaving some stones unturned and failing the case. She went as far as going through the poor woman's jewelry, and even her photographs.

Kaho was the first of the three to move onto the kitchen. Supposedly nothing had conspired there, so she wasn't expecting to find much. Still, good officers checked everywhere.

And she did find something. It was small, but it was something.

She had to check out her hunch, first, before she pursued it too far. She reentered the bedroom. After a brief scan, she found the woman's belonging. Stepping around the blood stains and body tape (the corpse had thankfully been taken for investigation, and then for funeral preparations), Kaho opened a furnished wooden box for the second time.

Now she was sure she had found something. She went into the living room to find Aizawa and Mr. Yagami just finishing up. They gave her their attention when she entered the room.

"Chief, there was an earring on the kitchen floor. And it didn't belong to the wife."

 **xXx**

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I appreciate all the follows, favs, and reviews!**

 **To be honest, when I tried to research how the Japanese police academy worked, not much of the information I was looking for came up. What came out was speculation and assumptions. I hope that it was realistic enough.**

 **Also, I have no idea if Matsuda was really first in his class, but I felt like, besides his total lack of experience and confidence, he would've been a great cadet. And he is so young to be a investigative police officer, I think that it makes sense.**


	3. In Which a Loving Wife is Murdered

Kaho knew from experience what the signs of a cheater were. However, she couldn't use her woman's intuition as evidence to convict a man of murdering his wife. A single, out-of-place earring could not prove anything. But now they had a direction to lean in, or at least an idea for a suspect and motive.

Kaho, Aizawa, and the Chief returned to the conference room quickly; they all were anxious to hear what Ide had weaned from the husband.

As it turned out, he hadn't gotten much.

"He says he was shaken awake as he was blindfolded, so he didn't see any faces. And he didn't recognize any voices, either."

The conference room was tense and silent. Kaho furrowed her brow.

"Did he at least figure out how many intruders there were?" she asked. Anything less than two wouldn't have made sense, as they had previously figured.

"He claimed there to be only one," Ukita sighed, troubled. "He bound them in their sleep, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to overpower anyone." Kaho shared a look with Aizawa. Kobayashi noticed them, and realized what they were thinking.

"You don't seriously think the husband did it, do you?" he asked them, somewhat exasperated. "I think Aizawa's hot-head is rubbing off on you, Matsumoto." Kaho crossed her arms, almost laughing at Aizawa's offended scoff before she reminded herself of the task at hand.

"There was an earring in the kitchen, and it wasn't the wife's," Kaho defended herself. "If he was cheating, that would be a motive."

Ide rolled his eyes. "An earring doesn't mean he's cheating. Besides, even if he was, why not just divorce her? People can do that, nowadays."

"He would probably lose his money to the wife, if that'd gone down," Aizawa pointed out. "I've seen people kill for less of a reason."

"It couldn't have been the husband," Kobayashi stated.

"Then how was he kidnapped by one person?"

"Well, as we were about to explain, the husband was found unconscious outside of a bank. He had just left it after removing fifty million yen from his account. He had been knocked on the side of his head, ransacked, and left in the streets. And there was trauma to his stomach from earlier that day."

"So he was held at gunpoint in a bank, and no one noticed?" Kaho questioned.

"No. He used a knife," Kobayashi continued. "Not inside the bank, but outside, and he watched him through the window. He also used a knife outside of the home, which would explain why no gun was sighted. He most likely hid it in his sleeve. The blood in the house was from his stomach wound, which luckily wasn't near any organs."

Kaho wasn't convinced for some reason, but she had no scenario to lead on with the husband as a suspect. She may not have _ever_ been completely convinced otherwise, but then Ide added some interesting information.

"That's not all; when we spoke to him at the hospital… he asked if he could see his wife."

"What?"

"He didn't even think she was dead; he said that he forced him to comply by using her as a hostage."

"He did what was asked, and he assumed the man had left his wife alive," Ukita shook his head in sorrow. "How awful."

Kaho scowled. Yes, the crime was heinous, but she was actually more bothered by the fact that she had been wrong in her gut feeling.

And she really hated being wrong.

xXx

* * *

The days turned into weeks, and no leads or suspects opened up. Kaho grew increasingly frustrated.

At one point, she was convinced she had found a hole in the husband's story.

"If he didn't know his wife was dead, where was he when she was shot? If there was only one burglar, handling the husband and the wife separately would have been near impossible. He was either in the same room, tied up next to her, or outside in the getaway car, which would have been in hearing range of gunshots. He would have heard her being shot from outside, and then what incentive would he have not to runaway?"

The team was in the conference room again. Kaho had forgotten a time when the room seemed foreign. Now she was worked there so often that it was like her second office.

Kobayashi debunked her theory. "We've been working out what happened through the confusion. The wife had been bound and gagged by the foot of her bed, and the husband was threatened outside into the van with a knife. If he didn't go, he'd be stabbed for a second time. If he ran as soon as they made it outside, he would kill the wife. So as soon as he was in the van, he was hit on the back of the head and knocked unconscious in the vehicle, so he couldn't hear the gunshot."

"Did the medical records prove there was a second strike?" she pushed.

Ukita opened a manila folder and sifted through papers. "There was only one injury, but it's bad enough that it's possible that he was struck in the same place."

Kaho scowled; back to the drawing board.

xXx

Another month passed. Kaho spent more and more nights with absolutely no sleep, spending hours in the conference room, just staring at pages and pages. Her eyes felt strained and she had a perpetual headache. On a couple occasions, she was forced to nap in the lobby. The process of going home to her apartment and then returning in the morning would take much too long. She felt exhausted and frustrated.

She might have felt worse, except she wasn't the only one who had such sleep deprived schedules. Mr. Yagami hadn't gone home all week, and his wife had to drop off a change of clothes every other day (Kaho's heart had nearly beat out of her chest when she first met the woman who had carried Light Yagami in her womb, had cared for him, bathed him, raised him, loved him. It was, for the reason that she herself had been a mother, much more empathic than meeting Mr. Yagami. She was a lovely, classic woman with a sugar heart, but Kaho could tell that it be crushed into dust easily). Aizawa only took a break to speak to his children and wife over the phone, Kobayashi taped pictures of his three kids on his computer, and she was pretty sure Mogi spent the last three nights drinking a gallon of coffee.

She wasn't sure how long things would continue on like that, how long it would be before they made a break in the case. There was no gradual progress, just a brick wall the team was forced to dig around, only to discover that it had been built indefinitely into the ground.

Another month, then another. The earring came back, dusted for fingerprints. A print was found, but there was no match in the database. It at least wasn't the wife's.

Her twenty-third birthday came and went. Kaho herself wouldn't have remembered the day, had she not received a card from her old best friend from highschool, Misao. A cute little picture of the stylish woman was included with kind wishes and 'I miss you's. She was still in nursing school, with a trainee's smock and a tall and handsome man, her boyfriend, by her side. It was the only card she received (Grandfather had forgotten her birthday long ago, since it was the worst day of his honorable life). Kaho wondered why she got one at all; Misao had attempted to reunite in the past, but Kaho had blown her off with the excuse that she had been busy. She hadn't known what busy _was_ until the case, but even then, Misao hadn't been asking for much. Kaho had assumed she was angry with her, but the card said otherwise.

Aizawa saw her read the card.

"Alright, that's it!" he slapped his hands on the table. The response he received was silent and had little energy, like zombie's turning around to a noise. The slow kind, that is. "Obviously we're getting nowhere," Aizawa growled. "And I don't think ruining our minds and slowing ourselves down will do anything but hurt the case."

"What are you saying, Aizawa?" Hashimoto asked dully, though he had perked up from just a few moments ago.

"I'm saying we need a break," Aizawa announced, "one with alcohol. Then one with our families." The room was silent, but Kaho saw some hopeful faces. She looked to Mr. Yagami. He rose to his feet, grimly removing his glasses, wiping them, and then placing them back to where they belonged.

"I couldn't agree more," he said with a relieved grin.

There were several who cheered. Kaho was one of them.

Sometimes Kaho forgot how different Japan could culturally be compared to her old country. Here, it wasn't strange for a boss and his employees to go out and drink together. It was a way of socializing, and refusing could be disrespectful. It was no strange sight for Mr. Yagami, Aizawa, Ide, and the others to walk into a bar together after work. Of course, they would never get as wasted as an American might. Embarrassing yourself in front of your boss was not the point of joining them, so they still had to stay mindful of their alcohol intake.

However, it _was_ strange for Kaho to join them. She was a woman; she really shouldn't ever get drunk, much less with six grown men. It was her first time joining the 'party', and she only agreed because Mr. Yagami was the one who asked her. Not that she hadn't wanted to come, and take the edge off a little, but she was just worried she be out of place as the only woman.

But that night was not what she expected at all. Aizawa eventually passed out for a few minutes, although that may have partially been from sleep deprivation rather than alcohol consumption, but it was pretty funny all the same. Laughter was loud, speech was slurred, and personal bubbles were popped. The only one who handled his sake at all was , who had two and only two. Kaho was the next best off, because she had a secret tolerance to alcohol that she seemed to carry with her from her alcoholic days. The boys surprised her with a birthday cake ordered at the last second. They all ate it greedily, buzzed and laughing uncontrollably. Mr. Yagami was like a father smiling fondly at his child, along with small disappointed sighs at their rowdiness.

All in all, it was a fun, loud night. Tamer than what Kaho knew, but she didn't feel ashamed afterward, which made it even more enjoyable.

She waved goodbye to her colleagues as, one by one, they headed home to their families or significant others. Soon Kaho was left with only Aizawa, Ide and Mr. Yagami, who claimed to be there simply to supervise the men of his station, but in actuality he was probably there because he was looking out for them. Kaho drank no more sake, though she liked it plenty, but it was strong and she didn't want to suffer a hangover.

The volume at their table had drastically fallen, but the conversations remained as frequent and as heated as they ever were.

"I'm still convinced Yamazaki was the one who killed his wife," Kaho admitted, referring to the case. Ide groaned.

"You think he _purposely_ got himself _stabbed_? Did you know? Getting stabbed _hurts_."

"So does getting hit on your head," Aizawa added. Ide nodded in agreement.

"I just have a gut feeling it was him. Plus, I want to know why there was an earring in the house if it wasn't the wife's. None of you think that was suspicious?" she questioned. Kaho realized she was getting defensive because of her drunkenness.

"I think you always see the worst in people," Ide retorted.

"Probably," Kaho admitted sullenly. Then she argued, "But doesn't that make for a good cop? Trust me when I say this, I know what kind of man he is."

No one asked just _how_ she would know.

xXx

* * *

During her Academy days, there had been a test on criminal profiling. She had aced it, and had been very proud of that fact. Her superior had congratulated her on aptitude in the field, and at the time, Kaho hadn't thought much of it. But the more she thought about it now, she realized that profiling had come easy to her. She was good at questioning people's motives, good at telling whether someone had ill-intentions or was just pure and simple. Like her Ex-husband. Like Sam.

She often forgot sometimes that she was older then even Mr. Yagami. Matsuda had been the top of his class too, but he fell short in the one area that she had a surplus in: experience. Especially the kind where you fell on the wronged side.

Her thoughts put into order, Kaho approached Mr. Yagami the next day. "Let me do a profile on Yamazaki and compare it with one of the 'criminal'. If I deem them too different, then I'll feel confident he isn't guilty."

Mr. Yagami inspected her. He laid his paperwork down and adjusted his glasses. "I'll allow it," he said, and Kaho visibly relaxed. She then noticed the paper he had been previously reading was her test scores. She tried not to react.

She bowed in her gratefulness. "Thank you, Chief." She turned to leave, enthusiastic and ready to get started.

"Matsumoto," Mr. Yagami suddenly stopped her. She froze and turned back to her superior. His face remained passive and emotionless. But his eyes held mischievousness. "While you're at it, make one up for any possible mistress."

Kaho smirked. "Yes, sir."

* * *

 **An: Thank you for reading! I know this is a little short, but hopefully it was still enjoyable. Thank you for all the feedback, I really appreciate it. I think next chapter, the case will finally be wrapped up.**

 **Fact: Mr. Yagami is a badass.**

 **...And the winning title: 'An Interesting Game' is now 'Drawing Blanks'! Thanks to all those who voted.**

 **~Mao**


	4. In Which a Surprising Love is Discovered

Kaho had her the profiles done by the end of the week. One was brimming with the deepest and darkest thoughts she saw inside Yamazaki. The other one was the profile she did of Yamazaki. One was assumptions of in unknown man, and the other was a record past violence, and his current psyche, but they were on the same man. Knowing Mr. Yagami had trusted her judgement had allowed her to plow forward in her research. She worked tirelessly for days.

Profiling a known person was like reading a history book, but profiling an unknown entity was much more fun. It was like cracking a code or solving a puzzle with pieces you weren't always aware were there. While the murderer's profile was, more or less, closer to the first type, the mistress' was the second for sure.

She was most likely a friend of both Mr. and Mr. Yamazaki. She probably wasn't involved in the actual killing, but she at least knew something would happen. She would have had to have been slightly sadistic to knowingly steal a married man.

Kaho gave the folders to Mr. Yagami, who read them over immediately and in her presence. He hummed at the first two, though Kaho wasn't sure whether it was in agreement of surprise. At the mistress', he paused in contemplation.

"I think you're onto something in regards to her being a friend of both the Yamazaki, but there is no one who fits such dark characteristics in their lives."

Kaho tapped her chin. "They would have to be at least a _little_ manipulative. Mr. Yamazaki is neither young nor attractive, and she wouldn't need money if she could afford earrings like the one that was found. There were no records of and such purchases on Yamazaki's account, so I doubt they were a gift. I'm assuming she was aiming to hurt Mrs. Yamazaki, but someone that hadn't been outwardly wronged by her."

"Otherwise," Mr. Yagami figured, "their ties would have been cut, or she might be an obvious suspect." He gathered the papers and tapped them on the table. "Good work, Matsumoto. I'll get a copy of these to the rest of the team. We'll look for woman who fit this profile the closest."

He rose to his feet, presumably to head to the printing room. As he passed, he murmured, "By the way, I could use a cup of coffee." He left at that, a small smile the only thing betraying him.

Kaho was pretty sure he was just pulling her leg, and was just bringing back an old joke.

She got him a cup anyway, just to be sure.

xXx

* * *

Fumiko Harada was not a happy camper. She had been caught by taken into custody by the authorities under the suspicion that she was aware of a crime and hadn't reported it.

Kaho's profile had narrowed the mistress down to two people, but after investigations of those people led them nowhere, Mr. Yagami ordered them to broaden their criteria.

In the end, it was Ukita who thought to question Fumiko Harada. She was a long-time companion to both Mr. and Mrs. Yamazaki, which coincided with Kaho's profile. However, she was the furthest thing from 'slightly sadistic'. She was more like a frightened rabbit, and she quaked in her heels and fancy coat.

It had taken quite awhile to get the full story, but Fumiko eventually cracked and spilled the truth like she was vomiting uncontrollably.

Aizawa and Mr. Yagami led interrogation. They had a rough time getting even a little peep out of her mouth. Usually, they played Bad Cop (Aizawa) and Scary-Yet-Fair Cop (Mr. Yagami), but this time they both maintained relaxed and welcoming personas.

Mr. Yagami was sure to inform her that she was not under arrest, and could leave at any time, and she did not have to answer a single question. Fumiko was reluctant for the first few hours, but she never left. She glanced out the door repeatedly, fear in her eyes. Terror was freezing her mouth shut.

Ukita informed the team that she was probably in danger, and was probably threatened somehow.

Kaho watched the interrogation process go down through a wall of one-sided glass. She found herself admiring the integrity and versatility that Mr. Yagami possessed. She was used to seeing him arrest hardened criminals, murderers even, but at that moment he was using a soft and fatherly voice.

She imagined he used that voice with his daughter, who would be about eleven now. He had also probably used it with Light, when he was younger.

Kaho watched Mr. Yagami rise to his tired feet and enter the back room with the rest of the team. He rubbed a smudge off of his glasses with his tie.

"She is adamant that she never had any sexual or romantic relations with Mr. Yamazaki," he sighed. Kaho was surprised, and honored, that he had taken her suspicions into consideration and asked anything in that nature. She just wished that he wouldn't have to worry about finding results, of any nature.

"However, she did admit that she was being pressured to keep something a secret. She feared for her life, that much was obvious."

Kobayashi rubbed the back of his neck. " _Assuming_ that Yamazaki was truly the one who murdered his wife and was threatening this woman, and _assuming_ that meant she wasn't the mistress, who would have no reason to be threatened…" he sighed, presumably at how ridiculous those words sounded aloud, " _why_ would _she_ know what happened? Why is she afraid that she'll be killed?"

"Witness?" Kaho shrugged. It didn't sound right to her. Yamazaki probably could have killed any witnesses and claimed the burglar did as easily as he had killed his wife.

Mr. Yagami took a seat in a chair. "I don't think she saw what happened, but she knew Yamazaki did it."

It was frustrating to now hear that the entire team had come to a consensus on who committed the crime, but there was no evidence to convict or even arrest him with. It was like they knew what the picture of a puzzle was and what it would look like when it was completed, but there was one piece missing.

Aizawa joined them in the room. "I can't get anymore out of her. She doesn't trust me enough." He ran his hand through his shaggy afro. The room was filled with frustrated sighs and groans, but then Aizawa added, "I think it's because I'm a man. She doesn't seem to like us very much."

Mr. Yagami suddenly looked to Kaho. "Matsumoto, I'd like you to try just asking a few questions to see what happens. Let me know if her demeanor changes in any way."

Kaho nodded, slightly unprepared, slightly excited. She slipped into the front room. It was small and square with bright yellow lights. Mirrors replaced the walls, and Kaho felt her confidence knowing that her team was behind them.

Her talk with Fumiko was short. She stuck with simple questions, like "What a beautiful blouse, where'd you get it?"

Her job wasn't to get information. It was to enact a test.

Fumiko had actually talked to her with a warm and relieved voice, and suddenly Kaho realized why.

Mr. Yagami had suspected it, with the lack of responses and the cold shoulder she had given him, an old man who probably wasn't much of a threat. She hadn't liked him because he was a man.

Kaho took a day or two to research past medical history, and was surprised to find a very important piece - perhaps the _last_ piece - of the puzzle. Fumiko Harada had been diagnosed with a minor case of Androphobia. Androphobia was the fear of men.

So she couldn't have been Yamazaki's mistress-

Well, not _Mr_. Yamazaki's, anyway.

Kaho made a profile on Fumiko, and she was sure to incorporate her probable sexual orientation.

xXx

* * *

After the revelation of her sexual orientation had been made clear, Aizawa easily got Fumiko to spill the beans.

She had been having an affair with Mr. Yamazaki's wife, and he had caught them. Fumiko had fled (not realizing she had dropped an earring until months later). Before that, a week after Mr. Yamazaki had walked in on her and her lover, the woman she loved had been murdered.

"He couldn't divorce her," Fumiko sobbed bitterly, "because then people would know she was a lesbian. It would shame his entire family."

Kaho knew something about older men and their honor. Everytime she heard the name Yamazaki, and image of her grandfather popped in her head. She didn't mention it. The others seemed appalled that something as trivial as honor and reputation was reason enough to kill.

Fumiko had confronted Yamazaki when he was in the hospital. There was probably a security camera with footage of their talk, but there wouldn't be sound. Fumiko's testimony would be the only way to learn what words had been shared between them that day.

She was heartbroken about the love of her life. She had been too weak to confront her murderer, especially with her words, but she felt like she had to try. She approached his hospital bed and threatened to tell the police what had truly happened.

Yamazaki told her that his wounds weren't as bad as they looked because they were self-inflicted, and as soon as he was out of the hospital, and if anyone knew of his wife's affair, he'd choke the life out of her body. She had believed him.

He had also gone on to admit that, yes, he shot his own wife in the back of the head.

Fumiko's count of 'Obstruction of Justice' had been excused on account of realistic and plausible threats.

Fumiko asked for her earring back, and tears streamed down her face when her pair was reunited. Mrs. Yamazaki had given them to her as a romantic gift.

Ukita checked the wife's name at the bank twice as vigorously as the time he'd done it before. Apparently, she'd had a secret checking account that not even Mr. Yamazaki knew about. There were very few purchases on it, but sure enough, one of them was the earrings. That was even more evidence that Fumiko's story was true.

Yamazaki had admitted to it all after he'd been cornered in an interrogation, one that had been initiated, led by, and concluded by Mr. Yagami.

Yamazaki came home one day and found his wife with another woman. He chased the woman out - someone he was acquainted with, no less - and punished his wife. But she wasn't sorry.

She became bitter and hysteric. She threatened to leave him, and openly share her sexual orientation. He'd had enough. He bound her arms in her sleep and shot her execution style, as Kaho had seen in the house. Worried about what the police might think, he took a small paring knife and inserted it into a fatty part of his stomach. It was painful, but covering the truth was more important to him. Then he drove around the city to think of what to do next.

He eventually made the plan to go to the bank, withdraw fifty million yen, stash the money in a hole in the ground, and purposefully slam his head onto a brick wall. It took two tries to knock himself out cold.

He awoke at the hospital, knew he had succeeded, and then pretended to ask for his wife, because why would he think his wife was dead if he'd done what 'they'd' asked..

Kaho almost punched his teeth in when Yamazaki was arrested. She had to restrain her fist, and that was almost just as difficult as catching him was. She saw how… _un-sorry_ his eyes were, like he didn't regret it. In his eyes, he hadn't killed his wife. In his eyes, she was already dead.

He was sentenced to death for one count of First Degree Murder and another for Harassment, as well as a plethora of several mess major offensives. Fumiko looked more heartbroken than relieved at the news.

xXx

* * *

Nearly nine months after the start of the case, and it was finally over. Kaho found herself adjusting to her 'pre-case' schedule surprisingly quickly. It felt strange to go home to her empty apartment every day. She almost felt like she was skipping classes.

Life slowed to normalcy. Mr. Yagami had her on any case that needed a profile.

Kaho sharpened the practice until it was her specialty, and at the station, she was practically _the_ profiler. She liked it. She excelled at it. She found it rather fulfilling that she wasn't completely wasting her old experiences, and it made sense to her that she would do this part of her job.

xXx

* * *

Kaho was at her desk when someone fetched her from the front.

"There's a girl here," the receptionist, Tanaka, told her. He looked annoyed that he had to come get her, but she didn't keep a phone plugged in near her. There wasn't anyone that would call her, so there wasn't a need for one.

Amused at his rolling eyes, Kaho followed Tanaka back to the front of the station.

Much to her surprise, there she found a young woman with a cute yellow dress and a wide grin.

"Misao?" Kaho called. Misao squealed when she saw her old classmate and ran into her as a form of hugging. "What brings you here?" Kaho chuckled, patting her hair a little before pulling away.

She _was_ glad to see her old friend, but she had a _lot_ of work to do.

Misao wiggled her eyebrows. "I needed to come see you! I needed to tell someone about this news!" Kaho was trying not to rudely laugh at the way her voice cracked and broke in her excitement.

"What news?" Kaho caved, slightly curious now. Misao's grin widened, if that were possible.

"I just graduated Nursing school!" she exclaimed.

Oh, had two years passed already? That had felt way too short. Time flew when you were putting bad guys behind bars. It was almost December, which meant she would be twenty-four soon.

Misao broke her the other news.

"Oh, and you're totally treating me to dinner tonight."

xXx

* * *

Kaho had gotten... _around_ in her old life quite a lot. Acting immature like that in her new body felt wrong. She almost felt like this was her chance to try the taste of both lives, and it didn't feel right to taint this new opportunity with old habits.

And so, he hadn't gone out since the Yamazaki case, and she barely wanted to again with Misao, but she eventually relented and met the girl - woman - at the train station. Misao wanted to go near Ikebukuro, which was close to where they had grown up. It would feel strange to go see her grandfather's dojo, so Kaho hijacked her plans and kept them out of Toshima. Besides, it would have been an unnecessarily long trip, even with the new Bullet Trains.

They went to a restaurant with classic Japanese cuisine. Kaho got herself caught up with Misao and her life, and purposely kept her talking about her, just to avoid the topic of _her_ self. Kaho didn't like talking much, and when it was about her own life, even less so. Misao didn't seem to notice, or to mind. It was quite a lot like high school, actually, and Kaho found herself surprised that she enjoyed the nostalgic calmness it gave her.

The two women were nearly twenty minutes into their conversation, their food not yet gone from in front of them, when two men entered the restaurant. Misao waved them over, ignoring the glare Kaho shot her way.

Misao folded her hands and bowed a few times. "I know this will make you angry, but please don't leave. My boyfriend, Daisuke-kun, and his friend who just got dumped-"

They were now in hearing range, so she zipped her mouth shut like a jacket. She looked up and smiled at the men. They bowed politely and sat across from them, much to Kaho's disgruntled protests.

"Sorry we're late, we had to change our destination." Daisuke grinned at his girlfriend. That would explain why she wanted to go to Ikebukuro so badly.

Daisuke was very direct and open, while his friend stared at the table for ten minutes straight. His name was Ryohei Nakamura, she learned from Daisuke. Ryohei rarely spoke, and ate his food sullenly. Other than his crappy attitude - which, hey, how would she feel if someone dumped her? - he was polite. Just unresponsive.

Then Misao pulled another trick; this one was a disappearing act. She totally, completely, and _heartlessly_ ditched Kaho to go to Heaven-knows-where with Daisuke, who went along with her devious plan clad in a love-stricken grin..

Kaho swore her vengeance but couldn't enact it, as Misao had vanished.

She ate in silence, not even bothering to start up a conversation with the grump in front of her. She was going to get her money's worth for her meal, and then she would leave. If Ryohei wanted to talk, he would.

She really hoped he never did.

Alas, he eventually opened his mouth.

"I don't know why they did this to me," he grumbled, gesturing at the table and referring to their situation. "I told them I'd get better on my own, but they couldn't keep their noses out of my business. I _told_ them, 'I'll move on when I'm _ready'_. Do they listen? No! And now I'm on a lame blind date, which I'm leaving right now, by the way. And I'm not looking for a serious relationship right now."

Kaho almost didn't reply, but he was staring at her as she ate. She sighed in defeat and set her chopsticks down. She had little patience for indecisive, rude, hot-headed men who were less than polite to women.

That was the difference between the Crab Apple before and Aizawa; Aizawa was chivalrous and sometimes classy. Kaho eyed Ryohei with a hard onyx eye at his latest words.

'And I'm not looking for a serious relationship right now'.

Brat.

"I'm not, either."

xXx

* * *

Ryohei and Kaho became an official couple after their fourth date. They had many, many more dates after that point as well.

Aizawa joked that, with his sour attitude, Ryohei was a male version of Matsumoto, her. Or maybe he wasn't really joking.

All Kaho knew for sure was that she was actually starting to _like_ the guy.

Her thoughts on the matter were, 'Crap'.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!**

 **~Mao**


	5. In Which a Killer is Born

Working with Light Yagami gave Kaho a thrill. At least, it did for the first three cases or so. She wasn't scared of him, not even a little, but knowing what he would become made her extra _aware_ of his every little move and his every little word. If he blinked, Kaho noticed it with great interest.

Eventually, after the novelty of working with what was akin to a celebrity (to her, at least) wore off, she ceased being so starstruck. Such a process had gone much the same way as it had when she first started working at the station; Mr. Yagami was first Death Note 'character' she had met, and she had been quite fascinated with him for months. Now Mr. Yagami was just Chief. And Matsuda was just the rookie. She hardly saw them as their anime counterparts anymore, and she didn't rely on her special knowledge to speak to them - she could just use her own experiences. And to those at the station, Light was just the genius kid who came in on every case that caught his interest.

And actually, it was with a strange twist of fate that Light was only ever asked upon for help because of Kaho herself.

She had been looking for information on a serial killer, who she believed was innocent, and she wanted to learn about his past behavior during his stay in prison. She had had a tough time finding what she was looking for, however, and was only able to move forward when Mr. Yagami told her his son had written a paper on that very same man. He brought said paper to work the very next day for Kaho to study it.

Light really was a genius; he had done extensive research on aspects even Kaho had not thought to check, and his thesis on the prisoner's true character seemed dead on. Kaho had met the man and Light hadn't, but she would've never guessed so going off his paper.

She asked Mr. Yagami if she could question Light further on what he thought all the information meant. Of course, he obliged, and Light came into work that weekend with his father. He didn't seem at all disgruntled by the early hour, and was as groomed as she had expected he would be.

She tried to be polite and not stare too obviously, though it took awhile before she managed to interact with him with what would be a _reasonable_ amount of interest. She spoke with him so that her attention didn't seem misplaced, and learned that, as she had expected, Light had agreed with her theory - that the man was innocent. His opinion had been left out of his paper, as it hadn't been a persuasive, but rather, a research assignment. They traded ideas for a few hours, and Kaho was on edge the entire time.

But she was perfectly polite. So was he.

After she had appealed to the system, and the man had rightfully gone free, Light's reputation among the task force sky-rocketed to that of a legend. There was not much Kaho could do to stop it, not the she even tried. She was pretty sure that it wasn't her fault, because even if she hadn't existed, Light would've helped with a case eventually. But she considered the possibility that she had catalyzed his involvement with the police.

She didn't admit it, but he was an impressive kid. After all, he was only sixteen.

xXx

* * *

Kaho entered her new, larger, and much less lonely apartment to find Ryohei making supper. She was very glad he didn't mind cooking, especially since he had been forced to do it the last few weeks. But he seemed to enjoy it. She wondered if he secretly wanted to become some sort of chef or restauranteur.

She kissed him hello and went to the sink to assist him in his quest. She didn't enjoy letting someone else do all the work while she did nothing. She blinked in surprise at his meal choice; it was Kaiseki, a decorative array of expensive foods. Kaho was shut down before her questions rose to her lips.

"Sit down," Ryohei growled, as snappy as usual. Grumpy was just the way he talked, Kaho had learned long ago, and it wasn't necessarily how he always felt. Tonight he seemed happy.

And nervous, which was very unusual. Anger, bitterness, harshness - these were all the Ryohei she had known for the last two years. Nervous? Not in his itinerary. Kaho should have seen something big coming from miles away. She didn't.

Not until after the Kaiseki he had prepared was gone, and not until Ryohei was on one knee.

She said yes, because she didn't want to remember the days when she did not wake up to his sleeping form next to her, or the time, so long ago, when no one respected her in the way that all women should be respected. And he was kind and gruff, and only hers, and she didn't think she could live without that now that she had it.

Ryohei didn't treat her like she was a woman living in the nineties; in fact, they decided that she would not leave the workforce, and she would not have to cook or clean more than he did, although she would most likely do less, considering her career. And Ryohei would work for his company through his office in their apartment. He didn't even expect her to have kids.

Ryohei was just as 'futuristic' as Kaho somewhat arrogantly felt herself to be in this year. And it was like he wasn't even it trying. It was just Ryohei.

They set the wedding date to a year from then.

Kaho arrived at the Station the next Monday with a diamond ring on her finger. But not with an eager explanation.

She had hoped that no one would notice it, since attention of any kind was not something she found desirable, but spending all day in a room filled to the brim with detail-oriented investigators was not the environment she needed. No one would just let it slide.

"What the _hell_ is that rock doing on your finger!?" Aizawa exclaimed, shocked. Apparently, the idea that anyone would want to marry Kaho Matsumoto was a funny one indeed, and after his initial surprise faded, he was laughing like a maniac. Kaho scowled at him and the way his boisterous personality always attracted others. She was flocked like a piece of bread amongst pigeons.

"Congratulations," wished Ukita, Hashimoto, and Mogi. Mr. Yagami smiled very genuinely and patted her on the shoulder, saying something like getting married was the best thing he ever did. Ide teased her for a full week, and Matsuda stuttered out polite questions, sometimes with a red face when he accidently got too personal. Which he did, a lot. Even Light wished her good fortune, during a conference break. For some reason, he chose to talk to her quite often, although that was probably just to avoid Matsuda. He was a smart man, Matsuda, but he could get on even a saint's nerves.

She received a call from Misao, who had found out about the engagement from Daisuke. She was ecstatic and claimed she had the right to be the Maid of Honor. She had got her and Ryohei together, after all. It was very difficult for Kaho to wiggle her way out of that conversation, and she barely managed to do so at all. But at least she had someone to help her plan her wedding.

One night, after Kaho and Ryohei had settled down next to each other in their bed, she found that she was happier than she ever had been before, in any life. She almost forgot about Sam, though a hurting heart quickly brought the girl's face to her mind. She did, however, forget about the future.

And when it finally dawned on her again what would happen, she realized that she was scared.

She didn't want to lose Ukita, or Mr. Yagami, or Ryohei. She didn't even want to lose Light.

She decided that the best way to keep them all safe was to make sure Kira never existed.

xXx

* * *

Kaho asked Mr. Yagami to call Light into work the next day.

"I'd just like a second opinion on the Watanashi case," she fibbed. "He can come after school, if that works for him." Mr. Yagami contemplated her request. Kyoshi Watanashi was a recent case she had taken up. He was a rather infamous serial rapist with no remorse for his crimes.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind. He hasn't been to the station for a while, so I'm sure he's eager to take a break from school and studying."

Kaho smiled kindly. Her plan to cancel the birth of Kira was simple; get Light at the station everyday, mentor him on right and wrong, and constantly survey the content of his bag. Maybe even bug it. She knew she needed another, fail proof plan, but for the moment, snagging up Light's freedom would buy her more time. She asked, "How is school going for him?"

Mr. Yagami did not change his voice in any way, but Kaho could tell there was pride in his words. "You know Light - he's the top student in the nation."

Kaho chuckled. "He's always so impressive."

"He must be, if he can impress _you_."

The two decided to meet up with Aizawa for some coffee, and found themselves walking down the hall while they conversed.

"I'll be honest," Mr. Yagami suddenly admitted, "I'm glad you asked about Light. He's been acting strange lately." Kaho glanced at her boss curiously, so he elaborated. "He spends all of his free time in his room, studying. I think he feels obligated to maintain his national rank and is wasting his last year of being a child."

Kaho suddenly felt cold. "Is he seventeen already?" she murmured, perplexed.

"Yes, this is his third year of high school. This time next year he'll be attending University. He's aiming for T-"

Before Mr. Yagami could finish his sentence, Hashimoto dashed from the offices to Kaho's side. He looked winded and grim.

"Were you on the Watanashi case, Matsumoto?" he asked, not waiting a second. Kaho gave a nod and followed him back down the hall. The matter seemed urgent. As they jogged, Hashimoto filled her and Mr. Yagami, who had followed them, in on the news.

"Watanashi suddenly just collapsed about an hour ago."

"What?" Kaho gasped in disbelief. The sinking feeling in her gut told her she knew what was coming next.

"It was a heart attack. He's dead."

And that was not all -

"Not another one," Mr. Yagami exclaimed.

Kaho knew then that she was too late.

Kira had been born - a while ago.

After the impending issue of Watanashi's death was dealt with to the best of their abilities, and the majority of his loose ends had been tied, Kaho told Mr. Yagami to not mind her previous request, and she did not meet with Light anytime after that.

 **xXx**

* * *

At first, all Kaho felt was panic, and then there was guilt and a burning in her chest. She managed to keep such feelings tucked under her skin, like she had learned to do though the years. But for a long while, she felt lost. What would be her next move? Would she get involved with Kira at all? Or would she refuse to join the taskforce and be safe with Ryohei? Would she let Ukita and Mr. Yagami die?

Kaho knew she couldn't do that. If she had been anything in her old life, she had been loyal. But even beyond that, she truly cared for her friends, and she would never forgive herself if she let them get hurt. She could never forgive herself if she let what Sam loved die.

L needed to live.

And, she realized, L was conveniently her ticket to success. If she could use her knowledge to help him solve the case early, then the damages would be minimized. She may lose Light, but that was better than losing them all.

When she checked the notes she had written down of what she remembered from the anime - thank Heaven she had done so as a child - she saw that damages may be avoidable altogether. There was a window, an opportune time to act. She just had to time her moves properly.

 **xXx**

* * *

Kaho suddenly recalled that she hadn't yet told her grandfather that she was getting married. Or that she had had a boyfriend. That train of thought struck her as odd and out of place. She derailed it, before it led to something.

The days passed, and so did the cases. More and more heart attacks. She wondered how anyone could dispute that they were being killed off - she herself had five of her cases end with a convict's very sudden heart issue.

The station became crowded and busy, and her colleagues buzzed with unspoken truths.

Something _was happening to the criminals, and someone was_ making _it happen._

Kaho watched as those she knew feinted fear when they were actually relieved. And others acted scared when they were actually scared.

Light visited his father regularly, like nothing had changed. Kaho spoke with him like usual to pretend she didn't know his secret.

When she saw how he took in the frenzied state of the station, she wondered if he had just come by to watch his work, like he was a killer returning to the scene of the crime.

"Has something bed happened?" Light asked her one day, and Kaho thought he sounded very innocent. He was a good actor. She brushed off his inquiries and assured him nothing bad had come their way.

After they said their goodbyes, and when he thought her gone, Light approached Matsuda and reiterated his question. Matsuda answered him in full. She watched them converse through the hinge of the hallway door, where Light had seen her disappear through moments before. She was lucky that all of the others were crammed into the work room, or she would've had to explain why she was sticking her nose in a door.

 **xXx**

* * *

Misao, during one of their _somehow_ regular phone calls, brought Kira up every chance she got.

"They're calling him a god," she all but squealed. "Isn't that kinda amazing? Kira," she giggled, as if she were testing the sound of the title on her lips. "Kira will punish the wicked."

Normally, Kaho would accept Misao's gossip, whether it was about the latest hair-do or a Kira convention, but now she was beginning to worry her. She was almost loopey with Kira-fever.

"You don't think that what this 'Kira' is doing is wrong at all? Killing is killing, isn't it?" Kaho asked lightly.

Kaho had expected at least an offended gasp, but there was nothing, not even a pause of silence, before the line went dead. Perplexed, Kaho did something she'd never thought she'd do. She dialed Misao's number.

There was no answer. She called again. And again.

She never spoke to Misao or Daisuke ever again.

 **xXx**

* * *

Kaho didn't know whether she was honored or surprised that Mr. Yagami asked her to join him at the international conference, but it was probably the typical 'Kaho-ish" answer of 'none of the above'. She was more touched than honored, and more excited than surprised.

"There hasn't been one since you or Matsuda have started here, and I make it a rule of mine to bring new officers," Mr. Yagami explained.

Kaho thanked him and accepted the offer, although she probably didn't have much of a choice in attending.

Typically there were to be only two representatives from each station, but Mr. Yagami slapped the label of 'an observer' on Matsuda so that he could join them. She guessed these conferences were few and far between, otherwise he wouldn't have gone so far to weasel Matsuda into it. But there was little protest, which made her wonder if it was a common practice.

She got the feeling that Mr. Yagami was guiding Matsuda towards diplomatic dealings for his future career, much in the same way that she had become a profiler, and she agreed that it was a good direction for him.

So Kaho, Matsuda, and Mr. Yagami found themselves seated in a row amongst dozens of intimidating authority figures. Matsuda seemed like he wanted to faint. Mr. Yagami was as calm as the eye of a hurricane. He seemed slightly impressed, though not surprised, that Kaho just sat quietly and unaffected. She tried to met any curious or disapproving glances with hard stares. If old men thought it was weird for a woman to be an investigator, they were terrible at hiding it. The Kaho of her past life would have cracked and flicked a good ten people the bird. The Kaho of the present just stuck her nose in the air, and she suddenly belonged.

She had it easy, however, because she was with Soichiro Yagami, the resident badass of the right half of the room.

Whenever some geezer rose to his feet to propose some silly theory - "Heart attacks are impossible to induce, so there _can't_ be a Kira," or her personal favorite, "I bet the CIA is behind the mass cardiac arrest killings!" - Mr. Yagami would shoot them down. It wasn't _just_ that he refuted them, it was by how he did it. He never angered, or raised his voice. He didn't direct any comments to the men personally. He stated facts - "Fifty-two men are dead from Cardiac Arrest nearly immediately after the authorities had deemed them guilty of heinous crimes, and those are just the ones we know about," - and then he rested his case. There was no arguing against facts.

Some of the discussions got a little heated, especially the accusations that went flying around. Two men argued over the definition of murder, and whether it counted as such of said victim was already on death row.

One man brought about the issue of how difficult it would be to even investigate the deaths. "It's not like a knife or gun wound. There is nowhere for us to even begin to look at."

"Investigating a series of heart attacks is pointless," another agreed gruffly.

A man near the front of the room cut through the utter chaos of the discussions. "If that's the case, then I guess we have no choice but to bring in L."

The room quieted almost instantly, and the only audible sounds were whispers. Then Matsuda leaned to his side to whisper in Mr. Yagami's ear. "Uh, Chief, who's this 'L' they're talking about?"

 _Oh, Matsuda._

Mr. Yagami cleared his throat. "Right, well, I suppose this _is_ your first international conference. L's an independent detective. We don't know his real name or whereabouts; in fact, we don't even know what he looks like. However, he's managed to solve every case he's ever taken on, and he's tackled some of the greatest mysteries this world has ever known. He hides in the shadows, but he's the best of the best."

"Amazing," Matsuda breathed. Kaho couldn't disagree. She distantly recalled her first time learning about the reclusive detective, and even since then, he had proven even more impressive.

A familiar chord concerning her current environment struck in Kaho's mind , and she started to recognize what would happen next.

Another man, two seats from the left of Matsuda, helped break the silence.

"I've come to understand that this 'L' is very arrogant, and will only take on cases that he's personally interested in."

"That's exactly right," a meaty voice added from the back of the desks. "Besides, we don't even know how to contact him!"

The next voice was so calm and steady that it demanded silence.

"L is already on the move."

Kaho didn't recognize it to belong any of the representatives who had been going at each other's throat for the last hour. She scanned the rows of desks and chairs, only to spot a figure by one of the entrances.

The figure's steps echoed in the silence of the room. It was a tall, thin, and well-dressed man. His face, neck, and hands were swathed in black, and his head was covered with a fedora.

Kaho tensed but found herself unable to look away. She might soon hear the words from someone very, very important. Someone she needed. Someone Sam had loved.

The Man in black stopped at the center front of the room, as if he were a college professor giving a lecture.

"Gentlemen," he declared, having captured everyone's attention, "L has already begun his investigation into these incidences."

Murmurs erupted all around Kaho, and chills ran up her arms and neck. Watari sure knew how to make an entrance.

Mr. Yagami explained Watari's role and importance to L to Matsuda beside her.

There was a sleek laptop tucked underneath Watari's arm. He flipped it open and brandished it on a podium. On the center of the screen, accented by the white background, was a capital L in Cloister Black font.

"L would now like to address the delegates."

The L was projected onto the tall backdrop behind Watari as he expertly plugged in a cord. The sound system crackled slightly as it turned on.

"Greetings to all of you at the ICPO," said an obviously modified voice.

Kaho was nearly shaking with excitement, and she had to pinch herself in the leg to keep her body in check.

"I am L."

* * *

 **AN: In case anyone is wondering, Kaho is about one year older than Matsuda, so now she is twenty-six.**

 **Thank you so much for reading!**

 **~Mao**

* * *

 **WAIT!**

 **~Special Extra~**

* * *

"How cute," Light smiled handsomely as he bent at his waist to heft a small child up in his arms.

Sam Nakamura was glaring at him as she drooled, both of which she practiced quite often. She had always been a grumpy child, even more so since she had started teething. Kaho couldn't leave her with the babysitter anymore because she had ran off, spewing things like, "Grumpiest demon child ever born". With nowhere else for Sam to go, what with Ryohei away visiting his parents, Kaho had been forced to take Sam to the Hotel the taskforce had been residing in that week.

Ryuzaki had been okay with it.

Sam was now at the stage of teething in which she bit everything that would be stupid enough to get in her range. Light was not aware of this.

"Ouch!" he yelped at tiny white teeth clamped hard around his fingers. He almost dropped Sam, but had enough sense to keep her in the air.

He managed to wrestle his mangled fingers from the slobbery hole she called a mouth. She glared at him, a scarily similar action to her mother and father. It was the epitome of glares.

Kaho gasped, trembling. She leaned over to L, although she did not whisper in any sense of the word.

"Ryuzaki, is it not a proven fact that grumpy babies are the best judge of character!?"

L mashed at his upper lip with his thumb. "What are you implying, Nakamura?"

Kaho stood and pointed at Light, who was trying not to throw a bratty demon child across the room.

"I'm saying that Light Yagami is Kira."

L had Light arrested right away, and thusly, Kira's reign of terror was put to an end.

Sam had received a medal of honor. She chewed on it like it was a chew-toy.

"That's my girl," Kaho nodded approvingly.

* * *

 **AN(again): Er, sorry. That just had to happen. Carley-Carley-Carley jokingly suggested the idea in a review and… that happened.**

 **It is VERY important to note that everything in the short may not happen. :)**

 **Thanks again!**

 **~Mao**


	6. In Which a Gift is Received

Kaho could hardly sit still in the International conference, she was so excited. She had goosebumps and her toes had gone numb. She could barely hold back a knowing smirk.

L continued his monologue with no reason to doubt whether or not he had everyone's full attention at the conference.

"The difficulty of this case lies within its unprecedented scope, and make no mistake, what we're witnessing is an atrocious act of mass murder, one that is unforgivable."

L's word was law; there would be no more debate on whether or not the deaths were coincidences. It now was fact, like the color of the sky. With just a few sentences, more progress had been made on the case than the entire hour before them. Kaho had to fix her lips when she realized her smirk was leaking. She couldn't help it; this was the first actual scene she had witnessed from the show. It was surreal, like watching a movie she'd already seen. And she was a part of it.

"This case cannot be solved without the full cooperation of the ICPO, that is, _all_ of the police organizations you represent throughout the world. You need to make the decision to fully support the investigation at _this_ meeting," L demanded. "Also, I require additional cooperation from Japan's National Police Agency."

Mr. Yagami rose to his feet in time with Matsuda. But Kaho had forgotten to act surprised that Japan was singled out. She followed suit and stood by her colleagues after a self-reminder to work on her acting skills. She would definitely need them to get past L's keen eye. It had been much too long since she had to interact with her grandfather, so she was out of practice.

"'Why Japan in particular?" Mr. Yagami asked. Kaho could tell he was trying not to sound too wary or uncooperative. L answered his question in stride.

"Whether the party is an individual or group, there's is a strong possibility that they're Japanese. And even if they're not, I can be sure they're _hiding_ in Japan."

Kaho glanced at her boss. Even Mr. Yagami could not keep a small thread of offense from his voice. Or maybe it was surprise? And yet, there was some honor in being directly addressed by the great L in a room full of very, very important men. Mr. Yagami asked, "What is all this based on?"

"Why Japan?" L reiterated, "I think I'll be able to provide you with proof of that after I directly confront the culprit."

Mr. Yagami tried to glean more information. "A direct confrontation?" He asked, leaning forward and frowning in confusion.

L dodged him. "At any rate, I would like to set up the investigation headquarters in Japan."

Mr. Yagami hummed in thought. "Yes, alright."

And just like that, with a few more agreements and cooperation rising amongst the men, and a concluding and brief farewell, L's image on the screen blinked off. The room was left in utter chaos, and little more was done afterwards. The conference was adjourned a mere half hour later.

"Let's get home and inform the others," Mr. Yagami suggested. Kaho, exhausted from the sudden lack of adrenaline in her veins, agreed in full. They were loaded on a private plane back to Japan within the day.

Kaho spent the ride practicing the facial expressions she thought she may need.

 **xXx**

* * *

It was not long before a sleek and highly functional monitor was installed into the station workroom. It was placed at the head of the room and against the front wall, where it would have no blind spots. It was given its own table that formerly belonged to Mr. Yagami, who had graciously given it up without complaint.

"L will use this to regularly communicate with you," Watari explained as he expertly set up the technology. Kaho tried her hardest not to stare at him for an inappropriate amount of time. She didn't want to stand out in his memory. But she couldn't help but wonder what his enigmatic face looked like. She had an idea, of course, but it had been years, and his face hadn't been all too distinctive in her memory. All she could remember was an older, grey haired man with a mustache. He was one of the few people truly older than her, she realized.

Watari went to stand beside the monitor and plugged it into a pair of speakers. It was obvious that L had provided them; they were extremely high-tech.

The screen flickered on, displaying a familiar backdrop.

"Hello, everyone at the NPA,"crackled a digitally altered voice. "To the majority of you who I have not yet had the chance to meet, I am L."

There were many gasps, and then suddenly the station was silent. Kaho turned to the screen expectantly.

L didn't waste time on his introduction. "I look forward to working with you all, and I do appreciate your cooperation." Kaho tried analyzed his voice. He spoke flawless Japanese; she couldn't detect even a hint of an accent, and he used all the correct lingo.

"However, I cannot discuss how we will handle this case at the moment. There is some business I have to attend to first."

Kaho noticed some of the officers glance at Mr. Yagami to gauge his reaction. Was he offended he was being ordered around and put on hold? Should they really give their full cooperation to some faceless computer voice? Someone who they didn't know, didn't respect?

Mr. Yagami inclined his head in a bow. "Of course. We also look forward to working with you."

The other officers followed his lead, Kaho included.

"Thank you. But the reason I am contacting you is to warn you. Later today, some highly unusual events will occur. I am requesting that you let it happen. Please, do not get involved."

Mr. Yagami nodded, promising the police would keep to their own business. The monitor turned black.

Watari bowed, and then promptly left the station. Apparently, his presence was needed elsewhere.

Matsuda fidgeted with his tie. "What do think he meant by 'business'?" No one could answer him, or even theorize - they were all too speechless. Kaho tapped her chin and wondered what the harm in telling him a little of the future would be. She decided against it, shrugged, and returned to her desk and her work.

 **xXx**

* * *

It was just after four-thirty the same day when the monitor blinked on again. It didn't go unnoticed by Kaho that it was just after school ended for the day - she wondered how long ago L had begun to suspect a student, or when he would mention it to the rest of the world.

She nudged Aizawa to get his attention to the front of the room. This time on the screen, instead of a decorative letter L, was an attractive man at a desk. It was a news anchor. He appeared disheveled and confused. He read off a paper in front of him.

"I would like to apologize for interrupting your program. We are now bringing you a live, worldwide broadcast of Interpol's ICPO." The sound died in the room for the hundredth time, it felt.

"This must have been what L was talking about," Ide assumed. "It looks like this is airing on television."

Kaho knew what would come next, and she couldn't help but marvel at the show. L had installed the monitor so they at the station could see the whole thing, and he warned them in advance so they wouldn't rush to the broadcasting station and demand it be shut it down. After all, who could be sure this was truly L's doing?

Lind L. Tailor introduced himself as L.

"But he's never shown his face before," Matsuda pointed out. "Why would he choose to do it now?"

Mr. Yagami hummed. "It must mean L's serious about this case," he said. Kaho could see why he had made the assumption, but she hoped it would have seem wrong to her even if she hadn't known L's true plan. Not even Mr. Yagami seemed to believe his own words, but Matsuda saw no flaw in them. It was a weak assumption made to offer some semblance of control of the situation.

As Lind L. Tailor continued to condemn Kira's actions in a long-winded and eloquent speech, Kaho became convinced he was reading off a script directly written by L. The mannerisms, where he paused between words, what words he emphasized, they all reminded her of the digitally altered voice from before. She wondered if L had directed a few practice runs before sending this man to his death. She remembered him doing something similar with Misa Amane.

Lind L. Tailor shuddered and convulsed, clutching his chest at a sudden pain. People shouted, both on the TV and in the station. Hands went to move the body.

"Oh, no," Matsuda gasped, looking to Mr. Yagami for some sort of sign that what he was seeing was a joke. Mr. Yagami's face was an ashen grey, and even Aizawa looked pale. Kaho turned away where it would be difficult to read her face.

The screen suddenly changed again. The now familiar L stared back at her, and in a slightly out of character, almost too human way, gasped into his microphone.

"I-I had to test this just in case, but I never thought it would actually work."

 _Yeah_ _right._ With the amount of fanfare and all the assurances that the police would be watching, L must have had a pretty good hunch that his plan would work. Kaho gauged her colleagues's reactions through the corner of her eye. Her close friends were a mixture of shocked, excited, and relieved. Others were quite reasonably angry or offended. A receptionist woman cried, as she had never seen someone die before.

L's voice became more confident than she had ever heard it. "Now, Kira, try to kill _me_."

The rest was history.

L had confronted Kira, proved he existed, where he lived, and what he was capable of. He had discovered Kira's first kill, and had given the ICPO the proof they had wanted. And he had done so with pizazz. Now, if he hadn't before, L held the entire world's authorities in his hand.

 **xXx**

* * *

Four days later, Mr. Yagami asked Kaho to make a profile on Kira. He thought that enough information had sprouted up by now, after some down time after L's big performance. She told him she had already made one and handed it to him after she fished it off of her desk. Most of it was speculation, but she didn't have to tell him that.

Kaho didn't have time to see her boss's reaction when he read it, nor could she ask him about his thoughts when he returned it, because she was too preoccupied prepping for a meeting with L. While the Detective called in quite often on his monitor - almost every hour, for half an hour sessions - concerning favors and record sifting, he had scheduled a daily meeting at five with every officer at the station so they could share even the most insignificant news. Before L's orders, the meetings had been on a weekly basis, mostly because they required quite a bit of work to prepare for. Spreading the workload over a week lessened the burden. But L had pushed the NPA to give him as much information as possible as often as possible. He was being thorough, and he didn't want to miss anything vital because a less intelligent man deemed something too insignificant to share.

Kaho wouldn't have been surprised if L had used those exact words.

However much a jerk or a slave driver he was, she saw why L was so pushy. He couldn't afford anything less than success. The entire world was looking to him to catch Kira.

Mr. Yagami began the meeting on tipline reports. Watari held a portable laptop in the back of the conference room. Since the offices were not private enough for all of their information to be announced at the same time, everyone shuffled into a room with lockable doors. Regular people walked through the station doors for all sorts of reasons.

Kaho almost whistled at the high number of people claiming to have seen Kira over the phone, and it was even harder not to laugh when it was announced that over twenty people had claimed to _be_ Kira. Each case was taken seriously, and the results were simply that people were crazy.

"Alright, onto the victim reports," Mr. Yagami coughed. The man who had done the reporting sat in his chair while another rose to his feet.

"Upon further investigation, we have confirmed that information of the heart attack victims was publically available in Japan immediately prior to their deaths."

His face darkened, though his voice remained monotonous. "Also, concerning L's request that we investigate the time of death for each victim, we found that all of them occurred between the hours of four PM and two AM on weekdays."

Kaho perked up and leaned forward in her seat. L had already found his first clue, then. He had probably known since even before the confrontation, as she had figured before.

"That information is extremely relevant for us," L piped up. " It suggests that, given the times of death, our suspect could very well be a student." The many turned heads urged him to continue.

"Based on the fact that Kira is only killing criminals, I think it is safe to assume that he is driven by very idealistic notion of justice."

 _One that would belong to a little boy, who grow up knowing his father was a hero who put the bad guys behind bars._

"We're dealing with an individual who has a very childish sense of right and wrong."

L had hit the nail on the head, but he very cautiously - almost too cautiously - added, "Of course, this is all still speculation, but I recommend you re-examine any assumptions you've made as to whether or not our suspect could be a student. We must consider every possibility. I believe that is the shortest route to finding and arresting Kira. Please, continue with your report."

Mr. Yagami, still shocked - _how could this awful serial killer be around the same age as his own son?_ \- nodded.

"Alright. Matsumoto, the profile, then?"

Kaho nodded and rose to her feet. "Assuming that Kira is only one person," she started, because that little fact had not yet been determined to be for sure.

She stuck to the easy stuff that was common ground between Light and Higuchi.

According to her, Kira was most likely relatively young (though she didn't specify a student) with a privileged upbringing, which would explain his sense of justice.

"Kira is easily offended and short-tempered." Her proof: he had jumped the gun when he killed Lind. L Tailor.

She took some big 'leaps' that she knew were right.

"He's competitive."

She also took a few she knew were wrong.

"He most likely has a very poor relationship with his father, or he had felt wronged by authorities at some point in his life. It's possible he or a loved one was the victim of a crime that went unpunished."

L actually interrupted her at that. "While the idea of revenge being Kira's motivation sounds plausible, I've already ruled out the possibility. Kira is spoiled and stubborn, and is used to getting his way. He thinks of himself as too god-like - too far above a typical person - to feel vengeful."

Kaho nodded and went on with her reading. If L hadn't shot the idea down, she figured, it would have grown into a popular theory. It was fortunate he had intervened.

She finished. Nothing too surprising had been said, but it was as full as she dared to make it. She couldn't scream Kira was Light Yagami, but she also couldn't sabotage the investigation. She needed to be reliable, helpful, but also realistic and factual. And not _too_ good at her job. Not yet.

She sat down.

Mr. Yagami asked if anyone else had more to say.

Matsuda did, about how the crime rates were dropping significantly. He was not well received, and was left standing under heavy glares, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

 _Oh, Matsuda._

 **xXx**

* * *

Kaho trudged through her door, her shoulders sore and her head aching. She was almost as exhausted as she was during the Yamazaki case.

She would not get to rest. Ryohei was waiting for her.

He wanted to talk to her, she knew, so she sat beside him looked at him expectantly. His lip twitched.

"Kaho," his breath trembled. "Has anything happened today?"

She shook her head no, because she was pretty sure he wasn't asking about L's theory on Kira's age. It was, at that point, highly preemptive information that the public had no access to.

Ryohei looked miserable, she realized. Something must have happened.

He was worried sick about her, ever since he had seen Lind L. Tailor's demise. It meant that Kira would kill more than just criminals, if you got in his way. An investigator in Japan was not safe.

In that way, L's big show had backfired. Less people would be willing to get involved. Or maybe, he actually wanted that. Maybe he wanted to trim the fat.

Kaho slipped her hand over Ryohei's on the table.

At the same time, she noticed a brown box strewn on the floor at their feet. It emitted an ominous aura. Ryohei saw her notice it, so he bent over to lift the lid and reveal its contents. He paused half-way through the task, shot her a warning look, and ripped it off like a bandage.

Nestled inside was a dead rat with a bloody hole where its heart used to be. Flies circled its torso like vultures, and a putrid scent hit Kaho's nose. She flinched away into her fiancé's side.

A phrase was written in blood underneath the rat, on the bottom of the box.

"'Turn in your badge'?" Kaho snorted, trying not to shake. Whoever did this would not get the pleasure of scaring _her_ , if they wanted to watch her reaction.

She took photos of the gift and brought it into the station the next day, after making a promise to Ryohei to force Mr. Yagami to get her a day off so the two of them could spend some time together.

He allowed her, though she was sure headquarters would have his head. She didn't like the look in her boss's eye; she could tell he thought she was scared. Maybe she was. She asked Mr. Yagami to keep the threat classified, both for personal reasons and to save face and morale at the station. People were scared enough about Kira, they didn't need to be scared about random cult followers, too. She was sure that, if they planned to attack the other officers too, they'd warn them in a similar fashion as they had warned her. Mr. Yagami would have to tell L about it, though. That was a given. She hoped it wouldn't change the case or distract him at all.

Mr. Yagami offered a safe house for her and Ryohei to stay in for a while. She decided to turn him down. If there was anything she hated about the situation, it was how weak she felt or how little control she had. Leaving the apartment, even briefly, would make her ashamed of herself.

Whatever she felt about it, something had changed. Someone picked her out as a part of the Kira investigation. And they knew where she lived; which was information that was supposed to be completely secret. So she promised she would act if another… incident occurred.

Before the gift, Kaho admitted, she had felt untouchable. Because of her knowledge. She thought she was out of the way and untargeted. She was above everyone else because she knew so much. Knew the truth. The future.

But now, instead of being invisible, it felt like there was a giant bullseye on her back.

Kaho didn't feel safe anymore, not really. And if _she_ wasn't safe, then neither was her fiancé.

 **xXx**

* * *

Mr. Yagami asked her if it was alright if someone else investigated the case of her threat.

"Any evidence found may be unusable if it was discovered by you, since you were the victim."

Kaho agreed fully. She would rather work on the Kira case, anyway. After a rather relaxing day off, she was itching to make up her lost time. The break had been more for Ryohei.

She helped Ide sift through the victim's information to check what had been released to the public. L had wanted to know if pictures had been included. She was not surprised in the least to discover that they _all_ had pictures, and after the first batch of them, Ide wasn't surprised either. Still, they made a point of checking every known Kira victim. It wouldn't _do_ to assume.

They shared little banter and spent the majority of their task in silence, but it was refreshing to sit with a close friend. It seemed like she never worked with those that she had become attached to anymore, though she had a feeling that it wouldn't feel that way for very long. Well, more than a feeling. Although, if she remembered right, Ide never joined the task force, did he? No, she was pretty sure she watched him meet L, so he must have…

She had forgotten to mention him in her notes when she was a child. Speaking of which, she would have to make sure those stayed hidden, considering L and his FBI agents could speak and read English. She decided to leave them where they currently were, in the pages of a cook book, under another pile of books. But she also vowed not to access them until she was sure the investigation on the police force was over for sure. It might be a year or two before she could refresh her memory about Ide's future involvement. At that point, it probably wouldn't quite matter.

With a nagging feeling in her chest, Kaho realized the notes were one of the reasons she had refused the Safe house. She wasn't sure if that was concerning or not.

She would probably have to deter Ukita, who had been assigned by Mr. Yagami, from entering her room when he was investigating her apartment about the gift. Actually, it was probably too late for that. All she could do was say, ' _Shoganai'_.

When she and Ide had wrapped things up and collected their data, they stretched and nodded at one another. Kaho personally delivered their findings to Watari, who thanked her quite professionally. It still fascinated her how fluently and natively he spoke Japanese, and she could barely tell he was English, and that was most likely only because she _knew_ he was. She wondered what ethnicity L was, and if she could figure it out if she got a good look at his face this time around. He was probably a mixture of several races, she guessed. He had even looked a little Japanese to her, though that was probably the art. And it had been a many years since she had seen Anime L.

That night's meeting wasn't an exciting one; They went over the information Kaho had spent the entire day staring at, and pretty much everyone expected the results.

Kira needed a name _and_ a face to kill.

After the meeting, Kaho returned to her desk to gather her things so she could go home to Ryohei. She had been, quite wondrously, spending all of her free time with him. Which was understandable, since they were getting married. They pretty much had to postpone any wedding planning, and least with what concerned Kaho, but they made it a point to spend their nights together.

Ukita and Mr. Yagami approached her before she walked out the station's doors, a serious look on both of their faces. Ukita handed her a photograph.

She knew what this was about.

"I managed to get ahold of security footage from the hotel across the street," Ukita said. "They thankfully had a camera aimed at the street, and it caught your apartment door."

Kaho looked at the photograph in her hand.

"Do you recognize this woman? We're one hundred percent sure she's the one who left the… box. You can see it in her arms."

Kaho nodded, bile in her throat. She could see a small figure at her apartment door. Her face, her eyes, her build - all of it - was quite familiar, even if it was in black and white, and blurred.

She sighed, and the obvious pain in the action made her wince. She choked down a whimper; she didn't want anyone to see her like that. Not Mr. Yagami, or Ukita. She hated being scared, or sad. It reminded her of her days living with her grandfather.

"Yes, I recognize her. She's my Maid of Honor."

 **xXx**

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for reading, and for all the wonderful feedback!**

~Mao


	7. In Which a Mistake is Made

Kaho didn't tell Ryohei that the cult member who had threatened them was Misao. All she told him was it was a crazy, young woman who got way too caught up in the Kira bandwagon. He wasn't exactly satisfied with that, but he didn't press her for more details. She could only hope that he didn't have accurate suspicions, though she feared her behavior would lead to just that.

As for _why_ she didn't tell him it was Misao, she couldn't exactly say. It wasn't like he wouldn't find out. Eventually. But the girl had been a mutual friend of both of theirs, since before they had meet. She had introduced them, had set them up on their blind date. She had been Kaho's only girl friend past high school, someone more than just a friendly acquaintance. She didn't really have any of those. And despite the annoyance for the girl Kaho had displayed in the past, Misao had always called again and again. She knew that, in her own, messed up way, Kaho loved her.

Kaho suddenly hated Kira with a fire she didn't know she had.

She asked Ukita to file a restraining order on her former friend, and suddenly it felt as though she had washed her hands of the whole affair. The fire died. But Kaho still felt shackled, still felt a sense of loss. It was like her friend had died.

The killings switched to an hourly pattern. Kaho noticed it after only the third death of the morning. Though, such things were easy to spot when you knew they were coming. It was like someone tiptoed up to you to startle you, but you had been watching them approach from the front.

Kaho wasn't herself that day, so soon after the Gift Affair. She felt a little reckless, a little impatient. Instead of waiting for someone else to catch it, she walked straight up to Mr. Yagami, after the second death that occurred during school hours. She felt a little exhilarated, like a mad woman on a mission.

"Chief," she stopped at his desk. He was on the phone, in what appeared to be a heated discussion. It was also, apparently, a finished one, because he slammed the receiver down.

Kaho didn't ask who could have been on the other end.

"Yes, what is it, Matsumoto?" Mr. Yagami looked up at her.

Kaho noticed Watari glance at her from beside her boss. L's logo was on the screen next to him; The detective was logged in at all times now, always present to hear new information the moment it was discovered.

Kaho almost regretted drawing attention to herself, but Misao's face flashed in her mind and she felt her spine straighten.

"Two criminals collapsed inside their cells in the last two hours, on the hour."

Mr. Yagami's brow creased. "During school hours?" Kaho nodded in confirmation.

"That… certainly pokes holes in the student theory," he admitted, rubbing his eyelids underneath his glasses.

Kaho shook her head. "I wouldn't say that. Not yet, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Mr. Yagami," interrupted L's auto-tuned voice, "If the murders continue to occur in such a fashion, please let me know, and keep me updated. I believe this may mean Kira is directly confronting me."

"Yes, understood," Mr. Yagami nodded. Kaho bowed, returned to her desk, and continued with her work.

L, she realized after some time, had probably figured what Kira was doing after the first killing. The way he waited to act upon his hunches or discoveries was a little annoying, she decided. Sometimes a hunch was as good as any evidence. Well, hers were, at least, though being over sixty years old and a mother with a tough experience in life may have had something to do with that.

Kaho was still restless, and couldn't stop thinking about her nurse friend, who was probably in a holding cell right about now. She couldn't decipher whether she was sad, angry, or satisfied at the thought.

She decided not to figure it out.

* * *

 **xXx**

Kaho noticed a shadow on her tail by the end of the month. It was a man in dark clothing and a hat that, in a rather convenient fashion, was always between his face and her line of sight. She could tell he wasn't Japanese, at least, mostly by his height.

She knew exactly who he was: an American FBI Agent working an investigation on the police force under L's orders. She let him follow her from the station to her apartment, and she let him follow her back the next morning.

What else could she do? L was beginning to suspect the police, or maybe just their families. Confronting him or shaking his tail would do her no favors. She would let the investigation go through without a hitch, even if it was a little creepy to know someone was watching her every move. She told Ryohei she was tired most of those nights, and he said it was alright, that he understood.

* * *

 **xXx**

Kaho was in the middle of printing a report of an interview with a misguided teen who claimed they had seen Kira on the streets ("Oh? A completely black shadow with Raven's wings?") when Mr. Yagami's phone rang. It was not a strange occurrence, as the man was busier than a bee, but he sounded perplexed from what he had learned from the other end. He hung up, saw Kaho watching him in curiosity, and sighed.

"Another six inmates were found dead from heart attacks."

"And?" she asked. The murders themselves were old news. Something strange, something new, she could tell, had happened.

"Some of them behaved… _bizarrely_ before they died." Mr. Yagami seemed to be at a loss for words.

Aizawa slipped by her side and crossed his arms. "Bizarre, as in how?"

"One of them drew a pentagram on the wall with his blood," Mr. Yagami said. "Another left a note, and another ran into a bathroom before collapsing on the ground."

"But they all died of heart attacks?" Kaho frowned.

"It's like they knew they were going to die," Aizawa said. "It sounds like they were shitting their pants."

The deaths struck a familiar chord with Kaho, though she was feeling fuzzy on the matter and couldn't quite place her finger on why. She wished she could check her notes again. But she had promised herself she would wait until police and FBI Agents were out of her apartment.

"Wait, a note?" she asked. "As in, a suicide letter?"

Mr. Yagami hummed. "I'm getting the details in an Email now. I'll let you know."

Oh yes, this was very familiar indeed.

* * *

 **xXx**

Kaho read the letter maybe a hundred times after receiving a copy from Mr. Yagami. She remembered it, mostly, but she felt like she was missing something. She knew there was a deeper meaning, a special clue inside the note. Was it important? And if it was, how had she forgotten about it?

"Mr. Yagami," L said from his screen. "We cannot allow the details of these three deaths into the media. As far as the public is concerned, these were just heart attacks."

Kaho's boss frowned but didn't argue.

"I have reason to believe that Kira was using these to perform some kind of test. If that is the case, we'd only be giving him the results.

"Right, I understand," Mr. Yagami nodded. "Matsumoto, I'll leave you in charge of sorting through the information and delivering it during the press conference."

"Yes, Sir," she bowed.

Hashimoto scowled from his desk. "So now Kira's experimenting on his victims?"

"He's playing with people's lives, as if all this was just a game. It's sickening," Mr. Yagami said.

Kaho was once again reminded why she would follow that man to Hell. He was everything righteous in the world. Maybe Light only wanted to be like his father, in some misconstrued, misguided way. It was definitely a big shoe to fill, to be such a great man. She wondered if an evil thought ever crossed his mind. They certainly crossed hers.

Kaho glanced down at the letter. Immediately, the top horizontal line held her eye. Maybe it was because she had originally spoken English and often times caught herself reading from left to right instead of top to bottom, though it was probably because she knew to look for something at all, but she definitely saw _it_ just then.

'L, did you know'.

She suddenly remembered the letter's meaning and subsequently felt so very, very dumb, and so very unlike herself for forgetting. Maybe she would cook for Ryohei that night? A new recipe, one she would have to dig through her old cook books for. She would say it was an apology for being so tired lately.

"Did you notice something, Miss Matsumoto?" Kaho glanced at the proxy L. He must have noticed her reaction.

She handed the copy of the letter to Aizawa. "No, nothing."

It took her all of two seconds to realize that it hadn't been the answer he was looking for. But what coherent reason, in this world, would she have to lie to him?

* * *

 **xXx**

'L, did you know

Gods of death

Love apples?'

It all came back to Kaho rather rapidly. The deeper meaning. The deeper meaning's _deeper_ meaning, that the letters were a distraction. She flipped to the next page in her laminated cookbook.

"Ryohei, do you feel like _yakisoba_ tonight?"

* * *

 **xXx**

The next day, while on her merry way to the station, Kaho came across an unfortunate scenario. While strolling through busy streets, she suddenly heard an unceremonious thud behind her. Being the curious person she was, she turned around to see a short, grubby man donning a greasy apron huffing angrily at a poor victim. He gripped the taller man in his sausage fingers, dragging the figure to his level and spitting in his face, a pristine butcher's knife in his hand telling of his profession. Kaho deduced from the capsized cart of slabs of meat that the butcher was angry at who had knocked it over. The pork spilled into the sidewalk and stained the pavement behind them.

Immediately Kaho approached them, brandishing her badge.

"Excuse me, sir," she addressed the butcher as she slipped her credentials back into her jacket pocket. "I must ask you to release this man so that we can come to an understanding." There, nice and diplomatic. When no one reacted, she eyed the knife in the short man's hand. The butcher grumbled, but eventually complied, letting go of the other's lapel and tossing the knife on a table outside his shop.

"He just wasted over ¥50,000 worth of pork," he spat, literally, at the man's shoes. Kaho's lip twitched as she attempted to suppress the disgust that arose.

"Then filing a claim against him will serve your purposes in full, but I must remind you to keep your hands and your _knives_ to yourself." She nodded in the direction she had previously been walking. "If you'd like, I can personally escort the two of you down to the station to file a case."

The butcher's face turned sour. He spit again.

"So, what will it be?" Kaho asked, her face blank and her voice monotonous.

The butcher glanced at the offender. "Ah, it ain't worth it." He waved the two off and limped back inside his shop. Moments before the door swung shut behind him, he called over his shoulder, "When I get back out here with a mop and you're not gone, I'll whack you with it. Stupid foreigner."

A soft chuckle escaped the man beside her. "I guess that's my cue to scram," he said in a thick, American accent. "Thank you for your help."

Kaho knew then that she had messed up.

She stiffly turned to the cloaked man - the FBI Agent that had been tailing her, that is - and bowed, ducking her face out of sight.

"No thanks needed." And she swiftly turned on her heel and sped away as quickly as she could without breaking into a jog. The American had left her vision just as quickly, no doubt in a similar panic. All she could think about was how quick she had been to inform L and Mr. Yagami about the hourly killings. That, and her little fib to L about the suicide letters.

When she arrived at the station, she found it was so busy that no one noticed her arrival. Which was a good thing, considering how pale she was. Knowing Mr. Yagami, he would send her home, concerned for her health, and then take up all of her responsibilities himself. And she really didn't need to speed up his heart attack.

* * *

 **xXx**

When she had been thirteen, Kaho's grandfather had - miraculously - allowed her to go on a school trip. It was her last year of junior high, she had reasoned, and she would rehearse her kata every morning and every evening diligently. Under these conditions, and with the addition of a luncheon with a sponsor for the dojo, the old Matsumoto had signed her permission slip. Probably to get her out of what was left of his hair. Kaho had never felt so excited before, at least, not in this new life. She had barely been able to hide her joy.

The trip was to a famous Shinto temple in the country, and though a large portion of the three days away from home would be spent there, the best aspect was the camping. Kaho got to share a tent with three of her friends, who were normal teenage girls. They talked about boys and painted their nails under the light of their lanterns - they did just about every girly thing except a pillow fight. The four even played Truth or Dare, during which Kaho had to steal the teacher's demerit board after curfew (which had gone smoothly - that clipboard was never seen again) and they all learned that Keiko was madly in love with a boy she had seen at the temple during the first day.

"He's from another school," Keiko twirled her hair, her skin shiny with a face mask. That wasn't surprising - there were lots of schools on the same trip. "And he's a few years younger..."

"Ew!" Hana made a face. "Wait, _one_ year younger or _two_?" Keiko blushed. "I don't know... does it matter?"

"Shut up, Hana," Erika rolled her eyes. "One or two or three years don't matter to _adults_."

"But it does to kids," Hana stuck out her tongue.

Despite her disapproval, Hana led the search for Keiko's 'True Love!' the next and final day at the temple. Kaho followed Erika when the groups split in half ("This way, we can cover twice as much ground!") but didn't do much searching. She was more concerned with the ancient illustrations of _Amaterasu_. She barely even noticed when Erika had gone on ahead and left her behind. In fact, she didn't notice anything until something hard nearly knocked the wind out of her. Kaho glanced down to see a brown haired boy - another student - blushing madly.

"Er, um, sorry! I wasn't watching were I was going!"

Kaho didn't respond, just then noticing her friend was gone.

"Stupid Matsuda!" another boy laughed from behind. "Hurry up, or you'll miss the bus again!"

The boy ran off. Kaho slipped around one, two, three corners, at this point back to where she had started.

Erika waved at the bottom of the lengthy stone path, one that they all had been forced to climb to get to the temple in the first place. Hana and Keiko were with her, their phones out, giggling. Kaho jogged over to join them.

"We saw him!" Hana gushed before Kaho had even reached them. The girl handed Kaho her powder blue device, the charms swinging cutely from the antennae. Kaho blinked at the partially blurry snap shot of the boy who had run into her side.

"I wish you had a phone so we could just send it to you..." Erika sighed.

"Why!?" Keiko puffed out her cheeks. "Why does _she_ need it? He's _my_ future husband!"

"Shut up, Keiko," Hana stuck out her tongue. "But you should really get a cellphone, Kaho. It's annoying when I want to hang out and can't reach you."

"I can't," Kaho shrugged.

"Why?"

"My grandpa doesn't believe in cellphones."

The last day had been as fun as the others, if not a little sad. The students didn't particularly want to go back to classes. Kaho didn't particularly want to go back to her grandfather.

Especially when, as the cellphone talk made her recall, she had been so caught up with her friends that she had forgotten to do her kata.

And somehow, her grandfather _always_ seemed to know if she made mistakes. He probably had one of the chaperones keep an eye on her.

She tried to imagine what her punishment would be, but she soon forgot to worry. At that moment, laughing with normal thirteen year old girls, Kaho didn't really care about her grandfather.

* * *

 **AN: It was NOT my intention to go so long without an update. And I'm sorry that this chapter is so short! I plan to get back to normal lengths when I get back to updating.**

 **Life has been a crazy busy for me… But in the best way possible!**

 **The short was really fun to wright! It was a time before she even knew what world she was in, so the name Matsuda meant absolutely nothing to her, lol. And even after she made the big realization in highschool, she totally didn't remember that brief encounter. Matsuda probably doesn't, either. XD**

 **On another note...I love you guys! Thanks so much for all of the feedback! It means so much to me! I just can't believe all of the support!**

 **~Mao**


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